


Porcelain

by vampirexchild



Category: My Chemical Romance, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Drama & Romance, Empath, Inspired by the Twilight Series, M/M, Mystery, Romantic Angst, Slow Burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirexchild/pseuds/vampirexchild
Summary: Frank is miserable to be apart from his home in California for the gloomy Astoria in Oregon, but soon, he finds himself consumed by the enigmatic Gerard Way who may not be as human as he claims to be. Mystery bruises a budding romance and Frank is determined to unravel the unknown. (The Twilight AU no one asked for.)
Relationships: Alicia Simmons/Mikey Way (One-Sided), Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Kristin Blanford/Mikey Way
Comments: 46
Kudos: 67





	1. Astoria

**Author's Note:**

> Before we get into it- yes, this is a Twilight AU, and it follows both the books and the movies with my own personal twists to shake things up a little. This will evolve into a series, but for now, here's the first chapter to start this off. Prepare for some frustrating romantic tension and just a touch of sexiness the original first book/movie doesn't have.

_Existential dread_. That was the first emotion that registered in Frank Iero's mind the moment he stepped off the plane and proceeded to exit the bustling airport of Astoria that had become startlingly unfamiliar to his cautious eyes sweeping around in comparison to his home residing in California. The second he stepped into the frigid air engulfed by a gloomy atmosphere hanging ominously above his head, Frank felt the remnants of any hope of Astoria being not as dreary as he remembered drained, puddling around the crown of his head like a personal raincloud unleashing a sheet of ice water upon him with each step he took. The thickly knitted clouds entailed a heavy downpour as a rumble sounded through the gray blanket engulfing every inch of familiar blue he sorely missed already as he tilted his head back for a fragment of a second to observe the weather. The scent of rain and humid earth wasn't as unpleasant as the sight of it. Frank's heavy luggage he dragged along and slung over his shoulders felt equivalent to the weight of his body carrying himself through the crowds as he searched for a familiar face awaiting to guide him to his new home.

The reason behind Frank's departure from his sunny personal paradise was voluntary on his behalf, but only halfheartedly. After his father married a bubbly new woman who seemed kind enough as she accepted Frank as her new family, their newfound spark inspired Frank Sr. to return to life on the road yet again, traveling across the states with a drum set and friends to accompany him. Lorelei would be joining, since they were practically sewn together at the hip after their union, and Frank felt misplaced at the thought of becoming a part of his father's new journey. As much as Frank adored him and as fond as he'd become of his new step mother who spoiled him with mastered recipes all entailing sweets, he decided it would be better to separate himself from the bunch while they traveled to settle in with his mother who became partially estranged through the years. Although his father wouldn't admit it, Frank's presence would be a slight inconvenience while on a journey so romantic with Lorelei.

Linda was there, waiting for Frank as expected, and she was nearly the same as he remembered her, save for sprouting gray hairs at her temple and the deepening of lines crinkling at the edges of her eyes as she smiled. Frank was reminded of where his large eyes and thicker eyelids originated from as he observed her, it was nearly haunting to recognize himself in her face when the remaining image of her blurred in his haze of memories piling atop of one another save for the rare video calls. Reality was different from what he saw in person. Frank cracked a smile of his own, and although he dreaded making a home out of his lesser than gleeful looking surroundings, he couldn't deny the fact that he was pleased to see her after five years of no visitations.

"Frank! It's so good to see you again." Linda wrapped Frank into an embrace lacking the awkwardness his father's hugs held. Hers were warm, and snug, spinning Frank's mind with slight surprise. The energy exuding from her always reminded him of a mellow warmth filling him with images of the simplicity of the afternoon. No sense of unpleasantness surrounded her and he felt some of the edge within him fade as he realized the way she felt hadn't changed.

"Hi Lin— um, mom." Frank breathed a chuckle as his cheeks blazed scarlet. He'd grown used to referring to his mother as Linda at home because his father normally addressed her as so. It was how he recognized her these days.

"I haven't seen you in too long." Linda pulled away to curl her hands around Frank's face, taking in each of his features and searching for differences. Frank's eyes widened and flickered around. Some passing people glanced their way and Frank couldn't help the embarrassment pooling hot in his cheeks. It must've been odd to see a woman coddling her seventeen year old son as if he was still a toddler. Or, in their minds, it was possible he didn't look his age. Linda's genetics were to blame for the lack of height, as well as the softness of his features where he should've stood out as masculine the same as his father. Apart from the sharp curve of his jawline, Frank's other features set him apart from his age on a younger scale. Youth was a flattering look, but Frank didn't appreciate the comparisons to thirteen year olds.

"You've matured so much. I can't say the same for your height." Linda released her grip on his face and grinned at her own comment. Frank was relieved she didn't make note of the rings of metal through his lip and nose, nor the messy tendrils of black hair beginning to grow out.

"I'm stacked about as high as you are."

"Ha! How have you been, Frank?"

"I've been as okay as I can be." Frank said truthfully.

"Good. I've missed you." Linda's eyes softened, warming Frank up a notch after suffering from a foul mood.

"Missed you too, mom." Frank mumbled only slightly awkwardly, but the sentiment was genuine.

Frank shifted, uncomfortable with the amount of bags he lugged around with him.

"Come on, let's get you to the house." Linda realized Frank's growing discomfort and offered a helping hand. Frank rolled his shoulder for the strap to his guitar to glide away easier.

"A guitar." Linda noted, her lips quirking up at one corner as she slung the strap across her shoulder. "You really are your father's son."

Frank pressed his lips together in a smile. He felt the tickle of sprinkling rain splattering onto his skin and glanced up at the sky in disdain. It was almost as if the sky paused the storm it orchestrated and took his arrival to Oregon as a cue to release its thunderous wrath. Frank soured at the _perfection_ of the timing and struggled to keep his face neutral so Linda wouldn't be wounded by his obvious distaste for his new home. All he knew as he rolled across the parking lot as the sprinkle evolved into thicker droplets was that he needed a cigarette the second he was able to escape for time alone. And, evidently, a thicker jacket next time he stepped outside, because the chill creeping through his black cardigan was persistent as it nipped at his skin like frosty little teeth.

The drive to Linda's house was mostly quiet at the start. Frank watched as they traveled down the streets across the lumpy roads, drinking in the difference of colors in the trees creating a thick brush lining the sides of the road. Vibrant orange blended in with the brighter tones of yellow, breaking into the warmer shades of brown as leaves dangled from their branches in preparation to flutter towards the wetted earth below to join their fallen brethren. The greenery webbing together on the boulders was a summery contrast, but Frank knew summer didn't prevail in Astoria. Despite feeling glum about the loss of beloved heat and sunshine, Frank couldn't help but admire the magnificent blend of colors and the beauty of nature, resting his cheek on his curled fist as he leaned his elbow on the armrest.

"How was your trip, Frankie?" Linda asked. Frank used to mind the use of his nickname, but after he associated it with his friends addressing him fondly with it, it grew on him.

"It was fine. The kid behind me kept kicking my seat for half the trip." Frank leaned his head away from his fist when it was a little difficult to speak with his knuckles pressed against his cheek. "But overall, it wasn't the worse plane ride. Wasn't very long either."

"Some kids are little brats. Are you hungry? I can pick something up."

"I could eat."

"Great. Any suggestions?"

"Anything as long as they have vegetarian options." Frank pressed his lips together.

"Oh, you're vegetarian now?" Linda rose her eyebrows and glanced at him quickly so she wouldn't lose all focus on the road.

"Yeah. For three years now." Frank wasn't particularly enticed by the slaughter of animals for steaks now that he was more educated on the cruelty involved. Aside from that, his stomach was never fully in love with meat, protesting at every chance it was given if his dinner involved any sort of beef or chicken.

"That's what all the kids are doing these days, huh?" Linda came to a steady halt at a stop sign. "Going vegetarian and vegan?"

"Well . . . it's not really a trend. It's just not supporting the abuse and slaughter of animals." Frank mumbled, subtly miffed that his choice of dieting was often passed off as a trend.

"Oh, right." Linda flushed the same as Frank tended to do when he was embarrassed.

"It's fine, mom." Frank reassured her so she wouldn't mistake his answer as something far more defensive than it was, it was an instinct to bristle slightly when someone made a comment about his eating choices.

She glanced around the streets, rolling down the road again when no cars were in view. "How's pizza with no meat?"

"Sounds pretty good to me." Frank stomach began to rumble at the thought of food after not having eaten for a few hours. His earlier meal barely counted as a proper serving. He skimmed his hand along his stomach as though to calm it and resumed looking out the window in silence as his mother made her way towards the pizza place she mentioned.

After picking up dinner, Linda pulled into the driveway of a familiar house bringing lingering nostalgia Frank had forgotten about. The lawn was green, yet slightly unkempt and patchy, and the tree in the front was unwavering, changing colors according to the season streaming by. The second story house was intensely familiar despite aging through the time he'd been away, the vividness of the robin egg blue paint on the wooden paneling fading as if the pelting rain washed away the vibrancy. The white trim at the scalloped roof remained surprisingly light and Frank noted the addition of wind chimes to the small porch leading towards the entryway painted black, though he remembered the paneling being a sandy color with squealing hinges whenever the door was pushed open. It was no longer Frank's home, but he could address it as a part of himself he couldn't feel fully unsatisfied returning to.

The rain began falling in alarming sheets when Frank and his mother unloaded his luggage to carry into the house. They moved in a haste, resulting in Frank slipping twice across the slick pavement and Linda capturing him before he could barrel headfirst onto the driveway. Bittersweet arrivals be damned, Frank mood was further soiled by the catastrophe rain made of him. He scurried into the house with the rest of his luggage in tow, droplets capturing into strands of his hair beginning to soak into the tendrils and dampening them. He glanced at the slick wheels of his luggage as he pulled it across the threshold, biting his lower lip as he hesitated to drag it across the recently polished linoleum wood flooring. Frank looked inquisitively at his mother trailing behind him.

"Go ahead, Frankie. That's what mops are for." Linda flashed a disarming smile, wiping the soles of her shoes along the rough doormat before the entrance with some of the luggage slung over her shoulder and a pizza in her other hand.

Frank nodded, his eyes sweeping all over the place that stayed mostly the same as he recalled with some differences. The first thing he noticed was the lesser amount of picture frames nailed to the walls. Most photographs were absent of Frank's father unless there were pictures of himself as a child where he couldn't be avoided in the background. The walls were painted a pale earthy tone the evolved into a softer olive green inside the kitchen. The flatscreen television was still hung above the mantel hovering over the fireplace, littered with tokens from the past and precious memorabilia such as souvenirs from vacations, framed greeting cards from various family members, and old photographs of Frank's grandmother who passed away when he was still at a fairly young age. The drapes were newer, going along with the theme of dark shades accompanied by various splashes of green added in for decor. The leather recliner angled towards the television balanced over a knitted forest green rug and a black coffee table displayed a family heirloom candy dish Frank recalled from his childhood.

The lighting inside was dim due to the grayness outside, a strange and muted white spilling over the aging flooring as resilient storm clouds prevented sunbeams from piercing through them. Frank heard the rumble of thunder outside as rain pelted the windows furiously, the sound of it cascading down onto the roof echoing throughout the entire house. Frank's eyes swept across an old friend, a mahogany bookcase overflowing currently with a collection of books stacked along the shelves void of a single speck of dust. He remembered running his fingers along the spines of his mother's book in search for something new to peel open and his curious mind to absorb. His affinity for reading was handed down in the bloodline on his mother's side, from what he'd learned. Frank was subtly intrigued by the newer books he couldn't remember filling in spaces once vacant before.

"Let's get you up to your room. I cleaned it up just for you." Linda said, guiding Frank towards the stairs that still creaked rather loudly every other tier.

Frank struggled to wheel his luggage over the steps to his minor frustration, but managed to wriggle the wheels free each time to reach the top of the stairs where a hallway began. He entered his bedroom after Linda and smelled the sharp cleanliness of pine needles flowing out once the door was opened. The curtains were pulled open to allow some light inside, and as Frank wandered in, he wasn't surprised to see nearly nothing had changed aside from the new bedding and the addition of a larger desk to uphold the older model of a computer he'd forgotten about until he laid eyes on it again. His old drawings still pinned to the walls along with posters of bands he didn't enjoy as much in the present, and the blue star stickers he'd pressed along the ceiling were still there, although he was certain they wouldn't shine in the darkness anymore. The room was tidy, as though he'd never left, and Frank was glad it wasn't his responsibility to revive it after he'd returned.

"The dresser and the closet are empty." Linda informed him as she set his guitar and duffel bag gingerly down onto the dark sapphire bedspread. "There's a bathroom across from you that's all yours. I have my own in my room."

"Thank you." Frank arranged his luggage near the desk chair and pushed in the elongated handle when it was no longer needed. He wiped his hands along his cardigan stained with rainwater, running his fingers through his hair stuck between dry and damp.

"Maybe we could paint in here sometime if you want."

"Oh, that's okay, I still like the color." Frank assessed the walls that were a subtle blue leaning in towards the grayer scale. He remembered picking out the shade when painting was first offered to him.

"Great. If you need anything, let me know." Linda cleared her throat and looked around with her hands at her hips. "Wanna have dinner first?"

"Yeah, can I just have a few minutes to . . .?" Frank gestured to his clothes and the unruly state of his hair, also becoming aware of the pressure in his bladder he needed to relieve.

"Sure! I'll be downstairs, maybe we can watch some television while we eat." Linda quickly retreated from Frank's room without hesitation, closing the door politely behind her.

Frank released a lengthy sigh he'd been holding in since the moment he stepped off the plane. He sank down on the end of the bed, running his hands along the covers, and took a moment to lay back against the pile of pillows accumulated at the top after reaching to pull them towards his head. He listened to the rainfall accelerate before slowing, an uneven rhythm he couldn't keep track of, and shut his eyes for a moment. He'd need to grow accustomed to the sound of rain. Some found it soothing, going as far as to use as a lullaby to drift off to sleep with, but while Frank found it peaceful before, he was reminded of the lack of sunlight he'd be experiencing, the loss of home in sunny California where he could practically taste the pleasantness of warm sunshine and free breezes on his tongue. He wondered if his father and Lorelei would miss him, or if they'd find relief in his absence to focus solely on their new marriage. He remembered sensing a tone of something strange when he suggested living with his mother again for a sum of time. Far too close to the relief he feared no matter how much they loved him. The thought stung deeper than Frank expected, so he dismissed it, and turned to dig through his back to change out of his clothes with spots of rain spreading through the fabric to create uncomfortable patches soaking in towards his skin.

Frank decided against puffing on a cigarette because he'd need to lean out the window to release the smoke, and the rain was still falling in rivets he couldn't avoid. The stubborn urge and tingle was still there, but he told himself he'd relieve it under better circumstances. He recalled Linda being a smoker herself, but he hadn't detected a trace of smoke on her scent when she embraced him earlier, and if she quit over the years, he felt inconsiderate smoking, a lingering guilty conscious no matter how cautious he'd be. He buried his pack of cigarettes deep into the nightstand drawer after deciding against smoking despite the itch and clambered down the stairs, cringing at the obnoxious groan the final step made before he fully planted his feet on the ground. Frank searched around and found Linda in the living room, setting out foldable tables after setting the pizza and a liter of Coke Zero with two cups onto the coffee table.

"What happened to your obsession with regular Coke?" Frank asked, slightly entertained as he stepped into the living room.

"I never put into consideration how much sugar is in regular soda until I saw a video on Facebook." Linda chuckled and rested paper plates onto their settings.

Frank didn't make any further comments and understood her reasons for switching. "Was it the video of someone dissolving an entire block of sugar?"

"Yes! It's appalling! I couldn't take another sip." Linda's hands waved in the air.

"They might've been exaggerating a little bit, but I understand." Frank shifted his weight. "I'm glad you're taking care of yourself."

Linda beamed. She patted his cheek on her way to the kitchen to grab a few napkins from the package sitting in the pantry.

He grabbed his serving after insisting silently his mother go first and sank down onto the slightly lumpy sofa. Linda switched on the television and they flicked through the channels until they landed on a friendly game show Frank didn't have much interest in, but he zeroed in and out as it continued so he wouldn't be caught in an uncomfortable silence with his mother. Linda never had a penchant for conversations that lasted, and Frank was more social despite also being introverted. The similarity they had was the need for space and quiet throughout their days. Frank believed they'd get along in the way where they'd mostly pay attention to their own business and prevent butting heads. He supposed he could grow used to the lack of frequent visitations to his bedroom and curious stepmothers grilling him with questions when he attempted to focus on his schoolwork.

When the divorce took place when Frank was younger, he couldn't bring himself to say he was surprised when he witnessed the gradual drifting between his parents. It was inevitable, he'd always known, and held onto no ounce of resentment. The unraveling of their marriage wasn't placed atop of a bitter dispute resulting in jarring arguments Frank wouldn't be able to forget as he grew older. The peacefulness of the lack of love caused a quiet split, and to the present day, their communication was slight unless it involved Frank. Unfortunately, divorces meant one parent moving out of the household, and Frank was almost too heavy with guilt to break the choice to his mother. He'd always bonded better with his father in a musical sense opening up another form of special communication he didn't have with Linda, though he loved her as any child would love their mother who treated him with respect and tenderness his entire life. The decision was bittersweet, but Frank admitted he was far more content living far from the grays and blues of Astoria. He fell in love with the sunshine giving Frank the rush of life he needed to fully develop into the person he always longed to be.

Frank was a musician who was used to the chaotic lifestyle of basement shows on blazing summer nights where he could lose control with the guitar slung over his shoulder like a passionate weapon. He enjoyed sitting on the porch at home at sunset with his friends as they discussed new plans for bands, projects, and everything in the sense of being free as long as the California breeze still flowed. Frank knew he'd seen the last of burnt orange and lava hot pink sunsets painting the cotton candy clouds over the hills before his drive to the airport. At least, for more months than he found bearable, and the thought of its heavy absence was enough to thicken his throat he barely used to speak because he couldn't find words to form when his happiness would bleed dry quickly in a dreary atmosphere. Frank depended on the ebullient essence of sunshine to inject itself into his veins soaking in the vibrations of the Earth around him. Rain and ice, it didn't convey nearly enough of the same energy he needed to absorb, and he wondered how long he'd last before he too blended into the dull slate grays of the sky when he wished he'd soak in the brilliance of colorful leaves no matter how they trembled while being pelted with teardrops from the clouds.

After dinner and lingering for a few more episodes of a game show , Frank excused himself by escaping to the shower. Linda directed him to the towels in the closet upstairs, offering any necessities he might've needed, but he politely thanked her for her hospitality when he insisted he had all the materials he needed. Once he was underneath the stream of warm water falling from the shower head, he was able to fully unwind, shutting his eyes as water trickled from his lashes and mixed into the streams sliding across his slick skin. The pressure of the waterfall was better than the shower head at home, he noted, and Frank fully indulged in the sensation falling against his muscles like the soothing ministrations of gentle hands. He washed through his shampoo that remained familiar, smelling distinctly of dark vanilla and a faint trace of almond, taking his time to shake away the intrusiveness of soft woes he needed to suppress if he was going to make the best of his time in Oregon. He couldn't resist feeling displeased with himself as he caught the sound of his thoughts; he'd made his decision for a plentiful good reason, and he couldn't stay away from Astoria for the remainder of his life.

The rain seemed to settle down for the evening after relentlessly spilling for hours. Frank heard the sound of the remnants dripping off the trims, streams trickling from the leaves in the trees surrounding the house. He finished changing into his pajamas and gratefully retrieved his cigarettes from the drawer he abandoned them in. Shaking his lighter out from his book bag decorated in various pins and patches, Frank opened the window that screeched from the effort, drawing a cringe from him. He leaned out into the chilled night air and took his time lighting the cigarette, the flame engulfing the tip pleasantly. He took a few gracious drags and watched as the cherry swelled the longer he held the cigarette between his fingers accustomed to gripping them. Back at home, Frank's father didn't know he smoked, and often got away with purchasing cigarettes from Hambone who always had a stash since his mother worked at a liquor store and he knew how to sneak into the case behind the counter to snag a few cartons at a time. Frank wasn't exactly proud of his addiction, but it made things easier. It silenced some of the chaos in the world he sensed. He wasn't sure how he'd get his hands on replacements now, he realized with a huff. He savored the smoky sensation filling his lungs and appreciated how it blended with the crisp night air absorbing into his skin.

A sudden knock of the door was nearly enough for Frank to drop the cigarette onto the sodden earth below. He startled at the sound and hit his head on the window he leaned out of while drawing back and up. He hissed at the pain sprouting at the crown of his head and rubbed at it with his free palm.

"Uh— just a second, I'm putting pants on." Frank called out so Linda wouldn't burst into the room unannounced.

"Sorry!" Linda sheepishly called back.

Frank frantically scampered to hide the carton of cigarettes and the lighter underneath the pillows on the bed. Realizing he had no other choice, Frank suppressed a groan as he leaned out the window and quickly scanned the ground. He flicked the cigarette into the wide puddle near the tree planted by the window. He heard it land inside the water with a soft hiss as the fire fizzled out. He wriggled the window shut, his fingers slipping a few times against the frame, and whirled around once he was finished scrambling.

"You can come in now." Frank announced, and sank onto the bed, willing his accelerated heartbeat to slow.

Linda opened the door and poked her head around it first to look around the room as if she'd never been inside it before. She stepped in when her observation was complete and Frank prayed he looked natural enough so he wouldn't be caught.

"Why did you open the window?" Linda addressed the sounds she'd heard before entering.

Frank's scarlet cheeks weren't helpful as he scrambled to form a believable excuse, but he wasn't sure how successful he'd be due to his near inability to lie.

"I, uh. My shower was a little too hot, so I opened it to get some fresh air in here." Frank tunneled his fingers through his damp locks he had scarcely ran a towel through. He hated the sound of his voice when he wasn't telling the truth. It stripped his act and rose suspicion out of whoever he spoke to.

"Well, you know, I can still smell the smoke, Frank." Linda's lips quirked as though to abstain from smiling, her arms crossing over her chest. Her battle with amusement wasn't triumphant as it escaped and came alive in her eyes.

Frank's blush spread further, red spilling towards the top of his neck in a burning temperature he could feel pulsing behind his skin. He wasn't as discreet as he'd hoped, and as he analyzed his doings, he couldn't understand how he ever believed he was.

"Am I already grounded on my first night here?" Frank sheepishly rubbed his hand along the back of his neck and averted his eyes.

"No, you're not. I don't care if you smoke as long as you don't do it in the house." Linda strolled further into the room to draw Frank's curtains shut despite the window facing a surplus of trees. "Does your father know you smoke?"

It took Frank a moment to process the lack of reprimanding coming from his own mother he clearly underestimated. He blinked a few times through his surprise, and began chewing his lower lip furiously once it began to pass.

"He doesn't. I really only did it when I was with my friends." Frank explained cautiously, unsure of how far his comfort could extend while talking about a touchy subject with a parent regardless of her understanding.

"Did you go out with them a lot?" Linda asked, still lacking the stern look Frank anticipated.

"Yeah."

"I just hope smoking is the worst thing you've done."

Frank took their stares connecting fleetingly to assess Linda. He felt the rush of her normal energy channel through the atmosphere without a trace of anger he dreaded to discover, but in the absence of it was a tendril of concern written in her irises more clearly once he detected it.

"I don't drink or do drugs if that's what you're thinking." Frank clarified. A few occasional beers at parties was the extent of his experiments, and one tragic experience with edibles. He went to the movie theater after testing them with a friend and swore the pictures on the screen were bursting to life in front of him, resulting in a panic attack in the public restroom. "You're really not mad?"

"You're turning eighteen next year, you're growing up. As long as you don't touch the rest, I'm fine with it."

"Oh, okay? Thanks, I guess. For — for not flipping out." Frank shifted. "I won't smoke in the house again."

"Good. But that's not why I came up here. I wanted to talk to you about your new school." Linda awkwardly dropped herself onto the desk chair after she briefly considered sitting beside Frank on the foot of the bed and deciding against it. She crossed her legs and sighed.

Frank's lips turned down at the corners. He'd momentarily forgotten about the part where moving into another state meant becoming situated at a new school; specifically, Astoria High School. It was November, which meant he landed in the middle of the semester, the most awkward placement he could imagine. Arriving after school had been in session for a few months meant everyone was bound to have already formed their gaggles and circles, leaving little to no space for Frank to fall into place. If he ended up becoming the outcast sulking in the corner of the cafeteria pointed away from everyone else, he'd sooner crawl underneath the ground to save himself the mortifying feeling.

"Is it too late to be homeschooled?" Frank muttered partially as a joke.

Linda's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Would you rather work at home?"

Frank paused and took a moment to consider it, but didn't take too much joy in imagining constantly staying at home, out of touch with any potential friends with the gray weather and his mother as the only company in his life.

"No. I was sort of joking." Frank shook his head.

"Oh. Okay then. Well, I arranged everything for you and you're due to go in on Monday. You're registered, all you'll need to do is tell the people in the office your name and they'll guide you." Linda locked her fingers together and clasped her hands around her knee.

"I just . . . is it an okay school? Are the kids snobby or nice?" Frank wondered aloud, drawing his lower lip between his teeth.

"I heard it's a nice and calm atmosphere. The kids barely get into trouble." Linda soothed his worries. "You'll do fine, kiddo. If it takes a load off your back, this school doesn't have the advanced program."

Despite himself, Frank released a heavy sigh of relief at that bit of information. As much pride as he took in being granted access to advanced school programs with his excelling grades and performance, the challenge of staying on top of the high expectations was a stressful factor in his life he always felt he couldn't back out of. Frank knew his father wouldn't show much disappointment, but he knew himself, and he couldn't step down the moment a challenge was handed to him.

"I guess that's good news." Frank swept a tendril of his slowly drying hair away from his cheek when it became ticklish.

"No uniforms either."

"My last school didn't have uniforms. The kids kept breaking the dress code, so they gave up." Frank smiled faintly, a light chuckle blowing through his nostrils.

"Your dad tells me not to be alarmed by your rock and roll look." Linda grinned, causing faint note of chagrin in Frank.

"It's really not like that." Frank went with however he felt comfortable and what made him as confident as possible while not being the most striking creature in a flock of doves.

"Don't look so embarrassed." Linda lightly patted his shoulder. "Dress code says you don't need to take out your piercings."

Frank was relieved, but then he asked, "Did you read the handbook?"

"Of course. It's my job as a parent."

"Maybe when I was in elementary school." Frank said, and realized it could've been taken as hurtful, so he softened the statement by smiling slightly in Linda's direction with a moment of eye contact so she'd notice his sincerity.

Linda smiled back, her eye crinkling along with it. "I always sent you off fully prepared. You had all the materials a kid could ever need."

"Everyone thought I was cool for having my own colorful pencil sharpeners." Frank's mind drifted back to memories that hadn't resurfaced in years.

"You always had your own pencil box, too. The teachers never had to give you one."

"And books. I brought a new book with me every week."

"Always so ahead in reading. Your teachers knew you were in for good things." Linda's fondness exuded from her and crashed against Frank in pleasant waves. His cheeks warmed and he twiddled his thumbs.

"I guess an advance program counts?" Frank asked.

"It definitely does." She stood up from the desk chair and rolled it back into place. "Well, I'm heading to my room to read until I get tired."

"I think I'm gonna do the same for about an hour and go to bed." Frank knew it was only eight in the evening, but the exhaustion in his mind couldn't be battled with for long. The knitting fog fell over him as thickly as a quilted blanket draped across his body.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything." Linda headed towards the door.

"Thanks." Frank shifted on the bed, pursing his lips.

"Night, Frankie. Welcome back." Linda's smile over her shoulder was warm.

"Goodnight, mom." Frank returned the gesture and watched as she shut the door behind her final retreat.

Frank's attempts to focus on the pages of his battered copy of Frankenstein were futile as his mind was occupied with insecurities involving his new beginning at a high school he wasn't familiar with. Following that, he couldn't help but long for the security of home in California regardless of how comfortable he felt entangled with new bedding and piles of pillows supporting him as he leaned back against them. Frank ran the tips of his fingers across the yellowing corners of a novel he was fond of, eyes scanning across the words without absorbing them. He sighed deeply and tucked the tasseled bookmark between the pages he stopped at. Pressing the cover down over the core of the book, Frank set it aside and reached for his phone he hadn't made much use of since he arrived. His spirits were brightened to see his father texted him, but fell slightly to see it was only an image attached, one depicting a drum kit polished to perfection so it appeared good as new.

Frank responded simply, adding a thumb's up at the ending of his comment, and sent the text message without digging further into his phone. No messages from his friends nor his stepmother, but he was certain they were occupied with their lives. They'd reach out at some point, and Frank would return the sentiment soon after. He plugged his device into the charger he stuck into the outlet beside his nightstand and rested it on the surface, stretching out to flick off the lamp. The soothing lighting fell away and darkness spilled over every surface in the room, followed by the silence soon interrupted by the rhythm of rain drumming steadily against the rooftop. Frank curled up underneath the comforter and rested in a nest of pillows he formed around himself. He gazed up at the ceiling at the makeshift stars he'd attached there in childhood after noticing the frequent loss of the stars in the evening due to rain clouds concealing their brilliance. His lips quirked upwards the slightest bit to find they had quite a streak of resilience, still glowing in the darkness despite dulling out over the years. Frank hoped he'd take after the stars; dulling slightly, but never fully losing the light inside even in the gloomy conditions of Astoria. 

"It's something, at least." Frank spoke to them in a soft voice still filling the quiet in the household, taking note of the absence of real stars. He paid close attention to the drumming sound of the rain and gazed at the glowing stickers above his head strung like aged jewels and was slowly lulled into a deep sleep where he found the tranquility of gentle sunlight behind his eyelids.


	2. The Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Way family.

The morning Frank would be arriving for his first day at Astoria High School, apprehension was high. The relentless downpour outside didn't help the uneasy feeling stirring within his gut. He trusted his intuition that always proved to be correct, and the negativity rising towards his throat wasn't the sign of good luck he'd hoped for while he prepared for the entirety of Sunday. His materials were in check, he wore a proper jacket for the weather, and he laced himself up in combat boots he knew would prove to be resistant for rain, but something felt out of place in the morning that was still darkened by the endless quilt of gray resting over the sky. Frank restlessly slept that night and rose in the early hours of the morning without so much as a glimpse of dreams to remember, yet he felt oddly energized, balanced on the edge of a frayed wire warning to electrocute his insides at any second. If at any moment he reconsidered his decisions, he never felt it as strongly as he did then crossing the threshold of his house where he heard his mother calling out to him to greet her on the porch.

"What's all the hollering about?" Frank asked as he cautiously poked his head out, eyeing the protective rooftop of the porch shielding the rain and questioning whether it was strong enough to uphold itself under violent weather conditions.

"I had a friend of mine drop something off for you. Consider it a welcoming gift." Linda beamed with her hands at her hips, gesturing towards the driveway.

Frank curiously maneuvered further onto the porch once he was certain no rain would break through the roof and peered around the corner towards the driveway drenched in rainwater. Beside his mother's faded blue Honda was an unfamiliar vehicle immediately drawing his attention in. It was an aged Toyata truck colored a rusty red, suffering some scratches from use at the sides that didn't take away from the sturdiness of the build situated on brand new tires secured with snow chains to ensure a cautious journey when the rainfall chilled into slippery mush dusting across the roads. Despite appearing faded from the sunlight and more than a handful years to its name, the resilience of the truck sparked excitement in Frank the second he drank in the details from his spot, and the grin resting on Linda's face was a telltale detail temporarily easing some of the personal storm brewing in Frank's stomach.

"Is that for me?" Frank asked breathlessly, containing his smile until Linda nodded. The second he was given confirmation, a laugh escaped him, and his smile spread wide across his face.

"It's all yours. Your dad told me you have your license, so I figured I'd get you your own bat mobile." Linda was pleased by Frank's excitement. "I know it's not much, but it'll get you by."

"I love it. I just — really? It's all mine?" Frank was in a state of disbelief now that it dawned on him. Back at home, he was allowed to drive his father's Audi to his destinations, but he was limited to borrowing a vehicle instead of owning his own.

"It's unlocked and the keys are on the driver's seat. You can break her in on your first day."

"Holy shit!" Frank realized his mistake and quickly flushed as Linda shot him a disapproving look. "Sorry for my language, I'm just — wow. You didn't have to get me anything."

"You deserve it for doing so great in school all these years."

Frank's heart softened. "Thanks, mom. I've never had my own car."

Linda reached out to run her fingers through Frank hair, shaking through his growing locks until he wrinkled his nose at the sign of affection. "Take care of it, kiddo. If you have any problems, let me know, I'll help you take care of it."

Frank gratefully pressed a fleeting kiss to his mother's cheek, overcome with happiness to have something he'd always longed for gifted to him. Linda blushed as scarlet as Frank tended to and ushered him inside to gather his items so he wouldn't arrive late on his first day.

Frank decided, if he was going to make any attempt at fitting into the partially solved puzzle of high school, he'd might as well let the students discover him as himself. He dressed in distressed dark jeans with tears in the knees, layering a Ramones shirt over a long sleeve he mostly kept hidden underneath his jacket to prevent rain from spilling over the fabric, but he kept it partially unzipped to show some of the colors and the bright red font peeking out over the faded image of the band members printed onto the front. Frank kept his piercings intact as long as he was allowed to kept them in, and decided to go against sliding his dark rimmed sunglasses over his eyes to avoid coming off as pretentious. There was no need for sunlight blockage when there was none to begin with. He refrained from dusting any cosmetics around his eyes as he normally did when he felt daring, but daring was the least of the emotions he felt while climbing into his new truck while simultaneously dreading the first impression a new high school would make on him.

The interior wasn't as rugged as the outside appearance, tan leather seats squeaking like brand new underneath his shifting movements. The engine made a gunning sound Frank flushed over, knowing it would draw unnecessary attention, but he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed of his first new vehicle. He waved to his mother watching his departure from the front porch and maneuvered the truck out of the driveway, adjusting to the feeling of the steering wheels beneath his nervous hands and gliding down the slick streets with a slight tremble along the way from the power of the engine vibrating all throughout the truck's body. He kept the windshield wipers at work and breathed a sigh of relief as the restless downpour eased up on him, slowing into a soft drizzle that was far easier to maintain. He kept his eyes on the road to watch out for massive puddles tending to pull at street corners, listening to the instructions of the GPS on his phone guiding him towards his destination.

The school wasn't nearly as large as the two story building Frank attended back in California. He assessed the brick red color of the single building surrounded by lush greenery and colorful trees facing the shift of seasons while being saturated by endless rains. He dug his teeth into his lower lip, knowing the smaller the school was, the more tightly knit together every student was, leaving him to face his fate as a loner drifting through the classrooms for basic education without much companionship. Frank wasn't fully bothered by it, but he prayed he wouldn't make a fool out of himself guiding his way towards his classes without knowing the ways of the interior of the building. Color flooded his cheeks as he pulled into the parking lot flooding steadily with cars and some eyes darted in his direction at the sound of the thundering truck engine.

Frank wasn't alone in sporting an old model of a truck, he realized as he passed the filled rows of cars in search of a vacant spot. His jaw unhinged slightly as he passed by a brand new silver car standing out from the rest, undoubtedly owned by someone with a family well off enough to purchase such a stunning vehicle for their child. He parked far away from the fascinating car despite there being an empty space beside it so the contrast wouldn't be appallingly humorous. He was hidden between a nineties model of a slim black Honda and a truck similar to his, but smaller, a dusty gray color with sunlight damage all across the roofing. Frank killed the engine, curling his fingers around the strap of his bag, and slung it over his shoulder as he exited the vehicle with a creaky slam the door made when he swung it shut. Frank felt the eyes on him as students passed, but he avoided them by keeping his eyes settled on his moving feet, glancing up a few times to assess his surroundings.

For a moment, as Frank pushed back his hood at the lack of rain falling, his eyes captured a cheerful icy blue pair. She flashed the leather jacket under her rain coat to show off the symbol to her own Ramones shirt after she'd caught sight of his. He shared a grin with her on his way to the office, glancing again over his shoulder to memorize her image and locate her again when he was finished. He slipped inside the warm office smelling of cheaply brewed coffee and approached the front desk, tucking his thumb underneath the strap of his bag digging slightly into his shoulder.

"How can I help you?" the woman at the desk asked, sounding not too excited to be working behind a computer, but she was far from cold.

"Hi, um, I'm new here? I'm picking up my schedule." Frank's eyes darted around the place, his cheeks warming at the curious glances the staff sent in his direction.

"Your name?" The woman asked and opened a new tab on her computer.

"Frank Iero."

"Oh, you're nurse Linda Iero's kid?" The lady brightened some at the recognition.

Frank nodded affirmatively. Linda legally changed her surname back to her maiden name, but she was otherwise known as Linda Iero, and he supposed she gave up trying to correct anyone who addressed her that way.

"She's lovely. I take my mom to the hospital she works at and Linda always makes us laugh."

"Oh, wow. That's nice." Frank wasn't sure what else he was meant to say, awkwardly shifting on his feet as his file was pulled forward.

"Okay, you're registered and ready to go. Let me get your schedule printed and I'll give you the student planner." The woman at the desk rose from her seat after she confirmed her okay to print out a page, headed towards the back to a pile of books baring the school's logo; home of the fishermen, which fell increasingly flat in Frank's opinion, more as the book was grasped in his hands and his eyes scanned the design of the cover. He peeked inside at the front page, nearly doubling over as the introduction paged informed the school held a capacity of three hundred students at most. He cleared his throat and held onto the planner, paging towards the map he'd need to guide his way.

"It looks like for your elective, you're been automatically assigned to music appreciation, is that okay?" The blonde lady asked after she returned with Frank's freshly printed schedule in her hand.

"More than okay." Frank nodded, finding a bit of positivity in his random placement.

"Then this should be your final schedule. Your locker number and combination is on the bottom of the page. Your teacher's have an assigned book waiting for you, so show them this slip when you come in." She pulled a slip from a pile resting at her desk and scribbled onto it with red pen in a fluid motion. "Come in tomorrow to get your student ID picture taken. We'll make your card as soon as possible."

"Thank you for your help." Frank politely excused himself after being given the slip, tucking it into the pocket of his backpack and zipping it shut. He exited the warmth of the office into the frigid outside entering the school grounds, facing the quad yard protected by the clear rooftop where students settled on the benches with their friends before class, their laughter bouncing off the hallways and building surrounding the heart of the school. The greenery thrived under the weather conditions and faded colors were sprinkled along the pillars and the rows of lockers Frank saw coming into view as he began walking hesitantly along the sidewalks connecting with one another to lead to various paths.

Frank's apprehension to be thrust suddenly into a foreign place was getting the better of him. His hands trembled slightly around the planner grasped in his hand as if it carried the soothing words to his insecurities, and he struggled to keep himself appearing steady on the outside. He absorbed the dreary atmosphere of the building contrasting ridiculously with the school grounds he was used to back home. The student life was less hectic, at least, as he drifted past the curious onlookers, searching for the corridor where his locker was located. He followed the organization of the numbers and approached the hallway he needed to pass through. He mostly kept to himself, keeping his eyes downcast, raising them to read into the numbers while he passed the yellow lockers feigning a cheerful look, but failing as the gloomy grays and blues of Astoria crept into the walls, spreading across every visible surface his eyes landed on.

While fiddling with the lock after locating his locker, Frank was startled by something hurdling past him, narrowly missing the back of his head. He felt the object piercing the air and the intrusion pressed against the back of his neck in a gust of wind. His eyes widened as boisterous laughter filled the hallway and a sharp gasp was buried underneath it. Frank turned his head, glancing in both directions to see what, or who, nearly hit him.

"You scared the shit out of the new guy!" Shouted a brunette with a sparkling nose ring, flicking his lengthy bangs away from his face as his mischievous grin split across his face.

"Sorry! That was a bad throw." Another boy apologized sincerely, embarrassment radiating from his grimace. His hair was a wild mane around his face, almost out of character if it weren't for the way it swayed with him bouncing movements. His full lips grimaced.

"It's fine." Frank ran his fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "You missed by a few centimeters."

"More like a few hairs." The nose ring guy snorted, a backpack still braced against his stomach. Frank assumed it was the object that flew and he captured it with ease.

"We're sorry about that, I was just trying to get his bag back to him." The curly haired guy came closer.

"No worries. I don't hold grudges." Frank assured, eased tremendously as he looked into the guy's brown eyes and felt a wave of pure good and intelligence radiate from him. Frank smiled slightly, his hand falling away from the knob of his locker.

"I'm Ray, this goon is Adam." Ray reached behind Frank to clap a heavy hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Adam Lazzara, the one and only." Adam smirked and slung his backpack into place. "What's your name?"

"I'm Frank." Frank introduced himself, finding Adam's dark eyed gaze to be intimidating because of the bold yet easiness of his personality he could sense.

"Yo, Frank Iero? You're already hot shit in this school."

"What?" Frank asked, befuddled by how that was possible.

"It's a small town, words spreads fast. Someone heard about a new student coming in the office and told everyone." Ray explained so it wasn't such a mystery to Frank.

"And you've been spotted, so everyone's probably talking about you right this second." Adam gestured to their surroundings.

Frank looked around for confirmation and discovered dozens of pairs of eyes were glancing in his direction, discreetness and obviousness varying between some situated in their spots or others drifting down the hallways. Frank supposed he was a bit obvious because everyone was inclined to dress simple and appropriately for the cold weather, while Frank tended to stand out with his torn jeans and band shirt peeking out behind his jacket.

"I was never this popular in California." Frank said slightly breathlessly, turning his back on the audience in hopes they'd draw their attention elsewhere. He opened his locker up successfully, passing the test trial.

"California? What the hell are you doing here?" Ray asked, astounded by the difference between Astoria and the sunniest state in the United States.

"Uh. My mom lives out here, it's been a while since I've seen her. I thought I'd live with her for a year or two so it's fair." Frank left part of the information out, finding it was too private to share just yet with classmates he'd barely become aquatinted with.

"That's to our luck. We need kids like you here, you know? I see that shirt." Adam surprised Frank by tugging on the dangling zipper to Frank's jacket.

"You like the Ramones?" Frank directed his question to both guys.

Both agreed in their own way, much to Frank's relief, and some of the rigidness collecting in his body spilled free invisibly.

"Get this." Adam unzipped his thick maroon jacket to flash the black and neon green Cramps shirt, proudly situating his lips into a crooked smile.

"No fucking way." Frank laughed at the sight, his jaw hanging slightly open.

"I don't have a cool shirt on today, but we're really into music like that. I like classic rock and metal a little more." Ray inserted.

"So do I. I didn't think I'd find anyone here who's into that stuff, I'm way into the scene." Frank was practically bouncing on his toes from excitement.

"You play anything?" Adam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the lockers, intrigue flickering around his stance.

"Guitar, drums, bass, and I scream."

"Fucking cool. I play the guitar, too." Ray approved of Frank's list of skills.

"I sing and scream, I play guitar sometimes." Adam nodded his head slowly. "Ray and I had a band before Tucker moved away."

"I've been in bands, too." Frank smiled sincerely, shutting his locker now that he wasn't in need of it. "Several, actually."

"What's with the jumping around, little guy?"

"The guys kept wanting to rebrand and change up who plays what." Frank paused, his eyebrow arching. "I guess the height jokes will follow me forever, won't they?"

"Until you're sick of 'em, cause you're hanging out with us now." Adam bumped a light fist against Frank's shoulder.

"You're fine with that?" Frank asked, slightly beside himself that was being taken into a circle of friends so quickly and without hesitation.

"Sure, it's not common we immediately get along with someone." Ray smiled warmly. "We've got Frances, too, you can meet her later."

"Where is she, anyway?" Adam looked away in every direction.

"Around, I guess."

"In the library jerking someone off."

Frank's eyes flashed open wide and a flush spilled his cheeks as Adam broke out into a fit of laughter and Ray punched his upper arm to reprimand him for his comment.

"That was one time." Ray scolded Adam, and it took Frank plenty of strength not to gawk.

"Once is enough times to make a brilliant joke out of. Anyways. Where are you off to first, Iero?" Adam directed the topic back to Frank who cluelessly stood quiet, not sure how to process such a colorful detail about the Frances they spoke about.

"Uh, I don't —" Frank remembered the schedule in his hands and quickly read off of the first class listed on it. "Trigonometry."

"Damn. Good luck." Ray chuckled. "Mrs. Hawk lives up to her name."

Frank groaned. "First thing in the morning, too."

"Don't worry, man, I've got you. My class is right next door, I'll guide you to it." Adam reassured Frank just as the trill of the morning bell sounding, alerting all students to make their way to their first class.

"Hey, it looks like you've got music appreciation with us right before lunch." Ray read the rest of Frank's schedule quickly. "You should sit with us. You can meet Frances and maybe Kayleigh if she pops in."

"Sure." Frank agreed with a nod, grateful that he wouldn't be condemned to sitting on his lonesome on his first day. He'd never discover that humiliation and he hoped to keep it that way.

"Catch you later. Don't let the teacher eat you on your first day."

"I'll try not to." Frank offered a parting smile and was guided to his first class by Adam.

Despite having a boost to his morning being taken underneath the wing of two classmates sharing similar interests, Frank couldn't shake the peculiar black and white feeling instilled in the school. It wasn't strictly the weather influencing the aura, it was the sluggishness buried under the linoleum checkerboard floors and the large windows specked in random raindrops splashing against the pavement when they landed, parting into multiple droplets colliding with the glass. The students pooling into the classrooms exuded curiosity, at times wariness when they observed Frank from afar, causing thick tension to develop and curl around Frank who struggled to pay attention to his lessons. He hoped being the center of attention would be a spark fading in the darkness once he attended enough days for the hushed conversations and side glances to die off. As soon as it arrived, his scrap of excitement faded, and he wanted nothing more than to escape from underneath the watchful eyes of strangers.

Frank managed to guide his way to his classes with only the aid of the map inside his planner after Adam wasn't near to offer his assistance again. He slipped twice on the slick floors from the rainwater some students brought inside with the soles of their shoes, but managed not to humiliate himself by falling onto the ground. The flush in his cheeks was stubborn as it refused to fade after having a spotlight pinned on his stride, though he wished he could cry out to the onlookers that he was no different than the lot of them. His stirring emotions prevented him from being a social butterfly and no other companionships were made, but Frank carried around a solid gut feeling that he wouldn't be approached regardless of whether or not he appeared open to conversation. Frank kept his silence steady unless he was spoken to by his teachers and kept his demeanor polite whenever they offered instructions to start him off on the right track.

It was difficult keeping up with other students, that was the downside of registering in the middle of the semester, but Frank thought of himself as a quick learner. Adapting to the atmosphere was the most challenging part, more of a hardship than catching up on the path of education. He quickly caught on that most of the lessons being taught in the classrooms were elements he'd already been through, but he humbled himself, and remained a relatively good sport instead of souring over listening to the lectures again. He was grateful for the familiarity so he could dive into the same wavelength his classmates rode on. The simplicity was a prize in comparison to being expected to rise to the highest level of education in advanced programs back home. Nothing outstanding was expected out of him unless his teachers drank in every detail in his transcripts.

Music appreciation was Frank's favorite subject thus far. Not only did he get to side beside his newfound friends, the class was studying the roots of jazz music and bluegrass, familiar sounds he recalled being his grandfather's inspiration when he began picking up on his musical talents. The reminiscence he experienced wasn't as deep as it would come to be the longer he stayed in Astoria, but he relished in the homely feeling he gathered from the sounds they listened in to while studying the various artists in the genres. Frank briefly explained to his friends the reasons why he seemed so excited to take on his assignments in that specific class and they were sympathetic in the beginning, but Frank diminished the signs of it, stating he'd made his decision on his own and he had no place to regret them deeply enough to put a damper in everything. There was something good in nearly everything, Frank reminded himself continuously. Aslong as some possibilities for contentment were available, he wouldn't completely dread the remainder of his stay.

When lunch finally arrived, Frank felt as though he'd already dragged through an entire day's worth of school, but only two periods remained after lunch break. Frank sucked in a gulp of air and held it for a moment before exhaling as he stood in line for lunch bar beside his new friends, tuning in and out of their avid debate over The Smiths and The Cure, arguing which was superior while laying biased opinions aside. He bounced on his toes, peering over at the bar, and finding the trays were being filled with a choice between chicken sandwiches or packaged apple salads.

"Frank, aren't The Smiths better than The Cure, Morrisey's douche behavior aside?" Adam cut into Frank's line of vision to drag him back into a heated debate.

Frank blinked as his eyes flickered between Adam and Ray, puzzling together an answer that wouldn't set either of them off. It appeared his only option was to be neutral despite having a preference for the latter mentioned musical group.

"I think they're both great and they defined an era equally." Frank rolled his lips into his mouth and tucked the lower half between his teeth. "It's not always about who is better."

"He speaks like a wise man." Adam shook his head back and form as the corner of his lips turned upwards slightly.

"Maybe he'll keep you from constantly getting into arguments with everyone." Ray lightly jabbed Adam in the ribcage.

"I don't argue, I debate." Adam pointed his finger in the air and directed it towards Ray. "If someone starts yelling, that's not my fault."

Frank chuckled as they launched into it again, sliding along the moving line to grab onto a packaged apple salad, politely requesting a canned Sprite over the counter to place on his tray. He slid his three dollars to the woman at the register who barely acknowledged his existence and grabbed ahold of one of the plastic forks situated at a separate bar nearby. He waited patiently as his friends filled their trays and paid, awaiting for the next move when the approached him.

"You'll be sitting at the cool kid's table." Adam said with an air of humorous arrogance. He lead Frank and Ray towards a table occupied with the dark haired girl Frank exchanged a smile with in the parking lot, recognizing her shirt instantly now that she'd shed her coat under the protective roof of the cafeteria.

"Frances Bean. You were missing in action earlier." Ray made the first comment as he plopped down onto the bench directly across from her, the plastic of his tray creating a dull thud against the table.

The infamous Frances who was mentioned in the morning looked up from what she'd been scribbling in her notebook, a lone bottle of lemonade and a glossy crimson apple angled near her elbows resting on the table. "I had to write an essay last minute and the computer lab is open in the morning."

"Stop lighting fires under your ass!" Adam chastined as he sank down onto the table. Frank felt color filling his cheeks as he wordlessly settled beside him, resting his tray against the table as he listened in on familiar friends immediately leaping into conversation.

"The last thing I want to do is write how I feel about MLK's speech when I've done that three hundred times already." Frances smiled cooly and shut her notebook, hooking her pen onto the front cover without lifting her eyes from it.

"Frances goes to protests." Adam fluttered his lashes at her.

"I've got nothing but time on the weekends."

"You and me both. Say hi to the new kid, rudeness."

Frances flashed her gaze upwards and her ice blue irises landed on Frank, less frostbitten at a closer proximity as she scrutinized him without judgement chilling the look in her eyes. Recognition flashed across her expression and she smiled the same as she had in the parking lot, drawing a similar expression from Frank.

"Hey, it's the guy with the cool shirt." Frances remarked. "Frank Iero, right?"

"Yeah. You're Frances Bean?" Frank raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"If we're friends. I have a feeling we will be if Adam took you in so quickly." Frances laughed softly, nodding her head towards her friend.

"You might've figured out he has a great taste in music." Ray gestured to Frances's shirt baring the same musical group as Frank's.

"I saw it when he rolled in this morning." Frances tugged at the hairband around her thin wrist and pulled it off to smooth her hair back into a loose ponytail resting as the nape of her neck. Frances was pale and slight, striking with dark makeup accentuating her bright eyes and her fuller lips. She was lovely, Frank concluded after observing her, and politely averted his gaze after he was finished discreetly taking her in.

"Now we have a new addition to our cool kid's table." Adam poked at Frank's lower arm as he opened the packaging to his salad.

"I guess he's not too shabby." Frances said, and Frank's eyes lifted in a moment to catch her winking in his direction. Frank flushed crimson at her flirtatious acknowledgement and covered a smile, burying it behind a bite of cubed apple sprinkled into the leafy greens of his food.

"So how about that essay? Did Ms. Burns notice you rushed?" Ray switched the subject to redirect it to something Frances mentioned prior.

"Thank fucking god she didn't." Frances packed her notebook into her checkerboard print backpack, sighing deeply enough for her air to cause a loose strand of her hair to flutter. "I just about shit my pants every time she reads my papers."

Frank chuckled at her vulgarity, not making a comment on her colorful language.

"Kayleigh will save your life if you just grew the balls to ask her to write a paper for you." Adam pointed his plastic fork towards her and waggled it in the air.

"Like I could pay twenty bucks right now. I got fired from Safeway."

"What?" Adam and Ray cried in unison.

"I got caught not paying for the chips I took for my break. I did it more than once." Frances cracked her knuckles before resting her elbow on the table and leaning her cheek on her curled up fist. "I don't really care, it was a shit job anyway."

"Now who's gonna pay for the cigarettes we get off of Kayleigh?"

"Get a job and see." Frances snuck a chip from the miniature bag resting open on Ray's lunch tray.

"You guys smoke?" Frank tossed in his inquiry after catching onto a specific part of their conversation.

"Only Ray doesn't, he vapes." Adam jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "Kayleigh's eighteen, so we give her the money and she gets the stuff."

"You think she'd get me something?" Frank asked hesitantly, his eyes flickering around the cafeteria out of fear someone would listen in on them.

"Yeah, I'll introduce you later. And don't look so paranoid, that's the way you draw attention."

"Oh, sorry." Frank's cheeks colored and he dropped his eyes onto his salad he poked at, taking small bites at a time as his appetite waned. As fond as he was of his friends, he was still partially uneasy, feeling the stares of passing students drilling into his back.

"She's also got weed sometimes, if you're interested." Frances added onto the neverending helpfulness of the Kayleigh they each mentioned, faceless in Frank's mind as he wasn't given many clues to her appearance.

"I don't really smoke weed." Frank shook his head slightly. "I don't think I'd be killed if I got caught, but I'd prefer not to be."

"To each their own, but I get it." Frances dragged her backpack off the table to set it beside her coat resting on the bench.

Frank's attention drifted as another round of conversation arose and the pair of friends submersed into it. He ate quietly, occasionally looking around at the faces of his chattering companions, but his focus was divided by the overwhelming quantity of people inside the room. The energy grazing him in waves was nearly overwhelming, yet he tuned into it whenever a specific person caught his eyes, finding either the strange or the good in strangers barely holding eye contact for more than a fleeting second despite whispering about Frank's arrival to the school. It was always difficult reading into a person without losing some of his grasp on his focus, which meant he tended to be caught staring, and staring was often intrusive even if he meant nothing unpleasant by it. He'd always avert his eyes whenever he was caught or he caught himself, settling his attention onto something nearby to obtain his full focus again.

When the cafeteria doors opened and the sound of pounding rain entered the cafeteria buzzing with multiple layers of voices and laughter clouding together, Frank glanced up from his tray as he normally did each time the doors were pushed open. A chilling breeze wafted into the building, always leaving Frank's finger's twitching for his jacket shed beside him before it dissipated into the warmth of the protected space heated enough to defrost each student who entered. Yet, the difference between Frank glancing up then and glancing beforehand was drastic. His gaze was never held captive, his attention forcefully yanked into an iron hold the way it was in that moment. The widening of his eyes came as an instinct the moment the chatter faded into a muffled hum resting over the atmosphere.

There were four people floating into the cafeteria with an entrance that wouldn't be lavish if they were ordinary like the rest of the students. Their presence took a dramatic flair as Frank envisioned a spotlight sparkling onto their forms, drawing they eyes of every person sitting unsuspecting during their break. Two young girls and boys, sharing the same unspeakable beauty Frank couldn't discover in the most ethereal pieces of art existing on the planet. They were alike in their paleness and the strange grace in which their limbs strode at as though they weren't aware of the exquisite appearance, aloofly entering the cafeteria without much interest in their familiar surroundings. In comparison to the gloom engulfing the grounds of Astoria, their beauty wasn't appropriate, sucking up the fragments of beauty in the land to make it appear foolishly unattractive as they claimed it, as well as the rest of the objects and people Frank ever found to be beautiful within his lifetime.

The girls were slightly similar in terms of their builds. One was a bit taller without as many curves, an almost athletic build that didn't take away from the breathtaking delicacy of her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, framing her doll-like face. Her eyes were narrow dusted in dark shadow bringing out an intense gaze she kept pointed forward. The other was shorter, her body and features dainty as a pixie, increasingly so as her dark blonde hair flowed around her in a halo as she spun in a small circle clasping onto the hands of the lanky boy remaining close to her side as though he became one with her shadow. The lanky boy was made sharp and thin, dimly reminding Frank of a Tim Burton character, yet it suited the angular curves of his handsome face, his dark brown hair fringing against his jawline. His lithe movements and long limbs made him appear taller than he was, towering over the small girl he handled carefully, depicting that she was fragile as she seemed.

It was the fourth member of the bewitching number of people leading Frank into a state of near hypnosis as he gazed on. He was male, sharing similar features with the lankier boy at his side, and his appearance was softer, less intimidating. The perfection of his porcelain skin was accompanied by windswept inky locks reaching below his ears, curling around a rounded jawline creating the shape of a stunningly beautiful face slightly hardened with a form of mild discomfort. His perfect and pale lips were turned downwards at the corners, his eye color undetectable as they kept flickering across the ground, but Frank could see the thick veil of dark lashes resting above his avoiding gaze. He carried himself with a slight hunch and his frame was partially wider than the other's boys, a few inches lower, yet Frank knew he wouldn't surpass the number of feet and inches the boy stood at.

Frank's stolen attention was torn away by the bunch striding into the cafeteria by a hand waving in front of his eyes, cutting his focus away. Annoyance sparked in him to have his view of obscured, but it faded as he sank back into reality. He blinked, as if broken out of a trance, and turned his head.

"Were you astral projecting or something?" Adam was as puzzled as he was amused. "I called your name like five times."

"Fuck, sorry about that." Frank's cheeks flushed deeply, rubbing the side of his neck under the curious stares of his peers. He glanced from the corner of his eye in the direction of the beautiful specimens he was observing, seeing them approaching the lunch bar. "I saw something."

"What made you leave the planet?" Frances chuckled.

"I just . . ." Frank lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at the people robbing him of his attention. "I saw them."

All eyes at the table automatically flickered in the direction of where his stare directed them. Almost immediately, they made noises of understanding, looking away quickly enough for Frank to be astounded over how they could unpin their focus so easily.

"That's the Way family. We didn't get to tell you about them yet." Ray nodded quickly in their direction without looking away from Frank's wide eyes.

Frank's eyes enlarged further. "They're related?"

"Well, only the guys are. The girls were adopted." Frances explained, taking a bite out of her apple as she assessed the Way family from across the room with wariness Frank was mildly befuddled by.

"It's weird though because they're all freakishly pale and . . . pretty." Adam shivered, turning back towards his empty tray after he'd devoured his meal.

"I'd say pretty in an understatement." Frank mumbled, yet Adam captured it, and smirked knowingly.

"The girls are hot, huh?" Adam waggled his eyebrows.

"Yeah . . ." Frank trailed off instead of saying anything further, yet his eyes kept darting past the girls and landing on the most ethereal in his opinion, the dark haired boy coming off as brooding from the frown at his flawless lips. Frank couldn't imagine what or who could ever displease a creature so gorgeous.

"That's not a hookup you wanna go for." Ray grimaced slightly. "Alicia has a glare that I swear I saw kill a fly once."

Adam snickered, but Frank remained serious, awaiting more facts about the intriguing family.

"Their mom is a doctor at the hospital here, Dr. Donna Way." Frances kept the information rolling is as she noticed Frank's curiosity deepened. "Their dad passed away when their kids were young."

"They're the only ones who aren't adopted?" Frank asked, leaning in closer to lower their voices as the family they spoke about moved past the lunch bar to head towards the empty table near the window, within Frank's line of vision.

"Yup. After having them, Mrs. Way couldn't have anymore kids, something about a traumatic delivery, so she adopted some later on. I heard the girls were adopted when they were fifteen and still living in an orphanage because they were weird." Frances whispered, her lips curling up nearing the end.

"That's just a rumor." Ray tossed in, possibly in their defense.

"You've gotta admit they're really bizarre, Ray. They don't talk to anyone in this school." Frances quirked her dark eyebrow. "And, wait until you hear this— two of them are dating each other."

Surprise boiled into a bolt of unsettlement causing Frank to draw back, his lips parting slightly. His eyes darted towards the family sitting down at their table and back to Frances. "Isn't that . . . bad?"

"They didn't grow up together, and Alicia and Kristin didn't get adopted that long ago." Adam shrugged. "I don't blame Michael for liking Kristin. She's hot."

"Yeah, but they were supposed to be family, isn't it weird?" Frances wrinkled her nose, her mouth twisting into a grimace.

"It's not really our business."

"Well, okay, dating aside. Who is who?" Frank asked on the brink of impatience, unable to keep his racing heart at bay.

"The perky blonde girl is Kristin, the skinny guy who looks like he's in pain half the time is Michael, the scary girl with the black hair is Alicia, and the suffering artist is Gerard." Frances gave their names with her brief descriptions as easily as breathing. She waved her hand in the air, glancing over her shoulder, and Frank discreetly nodded as he gave each face a name in his mind.

"Gerard has great music taste too, but I'm afraid he's gonna fucking kill me if I try to talk to him." Adam laughed, and the rest joined in, except for Frank who was lost on their reasons to believe that.

"Why are you afraid of that?" Frank asked.

"The guy can look really scary sometimes. All of them can, actually, maybe not Kristin so much because she lives somewhere in Pixie Hollow." Adam drew circles around his head in a twirling motion.

"It's a shame because he's crazy talented. He's in advanced art and the teacher always puts his stuff on the window outside, I didn't know anyone could be that good." Ray shook his head in disappointment, his hair bouncing along with his head movements.

Frank's imagination was fueled by the fact Ray gave to him. From underneath his lashes, Frank returned to observing the angelic family again, but his focus shifted and pinned onto Gerard, the one with the dark hair he tucked behind his ear with a graceful hand Frank could vividly envision wrapped around a charcoal pencil, scraping the tip against a grainy page in an aged sketchbook to bring a fantastical masterpiece instilled in his mind to life. Frank's eyes traced along the valley between his knuckles where he'd normally find a flush of soft pink behind in a light complected person, but the absence of any flush under his skin left his flesh a startling white glowing in the dim lighting filling the cafeteria. He could depict the veins running along the smooth back of his hand until they disappeared behind the sleeve of a dark pea coat speckled in droplets of rain from the outside.

As if sensing his gaze, and much to Frank's humiliation, Gerard's lowered eyes darted upwards and connected curiously with Frank's stare. At the first sign of eye contact, Frank's instinct was to move his eyes away, but they were ensnared by the intensity he discovered in pools of tar drawing him into the orbit of astronomic eyes immediately submerging him into an atmosphere forming instant icicles on the contours of his spine. As quickly as the frostbite seized his insides, a rush of anguish fell over him, tightening in his gut roiling as it was plundered by an onslaught of emotion and darkness making knots out of his veins rushing with heated blood. Frank's breath was spun away from his lungs in a barbaric act of theft, undetectable forms of danger flashing red behind his eyes, yet his heart seized at the melancholy lacing into the rivers of frigid solitude echoing in a universe of suffering. There was so much yearning that Frank nearly choked on a wave of tears building in his ducts, knotting in his throat.

Frank was practically gasping when he ripped his eyes away, blood draining away from his face. He grasped his numb cheeks, blinking rapidly, struggling to understand the horrific wavelength reaching him from across the room. Without a inkling of doubt, he knew the hurricane striking the center of his chest had wafted off the artist baring dark eyes trapping fragility in their gaze. He could feel his stare yet again pinning him to his seat, drowning out the rest of reality, until Frank's eyes gravitated back to him.

Gerard's beautiful face was set into a mask of poorly concealed frustration. His sculpted eyebrows were angled and pulling towards on another, a crease forming between them as his hypnotizing eyes narrowed slightly. Frank was certain he was puzzling over the reason behind Frank's odd reaction to his gaze, and an involuntary shudder rippled through him as the chilling feeling tethered to Gerard spilled over him again. Frank quickly looked away, not raising his eyes again.

His reaction had gone mostly unnoticed by his friends who involved themselves in a discussion with a topic lost to Frank as he didn't bother to fully zero in on every aspect of it. He could feel the occasional drilling gaze of Gerard Way from across the room, the strange aura giving Frank a story he couldn't piece together regardless of the attempts causing his brain a tension headache. The heaviness of the sorrow he gathered from him was enough to keep his throat tight with emotion, forcefully being swallowed down countless times until Frank thought he'd burst from the seams. He'd never experienced emotion so strong from any individual, and it never had such a lasting impact on him. Frank prayed it would fade so he could focus on the remainder of his classes after lunch was over.

When the warning bell trilled overhead, the sound in the room rose into a louder roar as the students stood up from their seats to gather their things. Frank lifted himself off of the chair at the same time as his friends reluctant to return to the real purpose of attending high school.

"You alright, little guy?" Adam asked when he finally took notice of Frank's shaken appearance. "You look a little green."

"I'm fine, I just have a headache all of a sudden." Frank brushed off his concern a tad dismissively, his mind drifting as he sensed movement from the Way family's table from the corner of his eye. The leftover clenching in his chest turned into a dire need for a cigarette. Something to take the edge off.

"You should really stay away from those kids." Adam nodded towards the Ways as if he read from Frank's expression what he was stressing over. "They might run in a pack, but apart from each other, they're very antisocial lone wolves."

"Yeah. I got it." Frank cleared his throat, shrugging his back over his shoulder and digging his thumb underneath the strap.

"We'll catch you later." Frances said, giving a salute that Ray mimicked as they headed off in the same direction.

"Yeah, catch you later, man." Adam nodded, and after Frank returned it, they went their separate ways to get to their next class punctually.

Frank followed the directions in his planner to his next class, avoiding the paths the Way family took even if it meant he'd be the slightest bit tardy. He wondered if he should pause in the restroom, splash cool water onto his face as his flush slowly returned, but the frosty kiss of rain pelting on the sidewalk found a way to sprinkle over him, the first time it offered any relief to Frank. He sighed heavily, tucking his planner into his backpack, and crossed his fingers for a more pleasant rest of his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! We have our introduction that will soon be followed with more meetings. Have you guys caught on to Frank's special little gift? We'll get more into that later. I really wanted to give a fuller reason as to why Bella's mind was impossible to crack and why Edward was so drawn to her.


	3. Dreary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something doesn’t feel right about Frank’s project partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! Another one. I’m still in the process of prewriting all of this so I’m decently ahead to upload another chapter.

English class was always a subject Frank excelled at. He was regularly praised for his eloquent essays and dedication to the projects assigned to him, the fondness going as far as rewarding him with prizes, and once having a piece of his work sent to a national competition. He only settled into second place, but the honor's extravagance would never diminish as long as the trophy was displayed proudly in his home in California, silver and fairly sized so it didn't appear overly boastful if someone were to lay eyes on it.

Despite being known as a valuable student, Frank never allowed it to fluff his ego so much that it went beyond his common sense. He strode through the school halls humbly as any other student would because his achievements didn't separate him from the human race like the delusion some of his advanced placement classmates lived in. Frank decided he'd never mutate into a pretentious dickhead the same way they did. His confidence had no place in poisoning his attitude and his valued friendships with others who weren't as responsible with each of their assignments. Frank was able to believe in himself while also believing in others just as respectfully instead of peering down at them with disdain, his nose angled upwards in the air while dismissively turning his head.

English class came next in the row of classes Frank was scheduled to attend. He neared the doorway after locating the numbers imprinted on the doorway propped open to welcome the influx of students striding in one by one. He waited patiently in line as students wiped the soles of their shoes against the tattered rug inside stained with muddy residue from outside, decayed leaves, and soaked through from the rain. Frank took his turn eventually, dragging his shoes along the ruined carpet for what seemed to be no reason if the material was destroyed, but the watchful eyes of the teacher seated at his desk gave Frank a feeling he'd be instructed to wipe his shoes if he ignored the actions of other classmates. He shook the rain droplets off of his coat, quickly scanning over the classroom instinctively, before his eye was captured once again.

Towards the back of the classroom along the rows of desks pushed together in pairs occupying the rest of the small space, Frank's gaze entangled with that of Gerard Way's. Their eyes locked as students brushed past Frank, pinning one another into a stony state as if they were familiar, but Frank only knew of his existence for a short amount of time, and he was more than certain Gerard paid no attention to details such as Frank's name or what year he was. Yet, Frank felt his stomach plummet and his cheeks flush violently the same way they did when he crossed paths with a person he wasn't exactly excited to see in public, worsening to a separate degree as Frank noticed the way Gerard's form quickly became rigid, his onyx eyes tearing away from the link they'd created obliviously to staple their focus onto the desk he grasped the corners of with a grip Frank was surprised by. His posture and change of expression were unsettling.

"Are you the new student I'm expecting?" The teacher Frank's mind abandoned quickly broke through his turmoil. Frank collided with real time again and snapped his head towards the direction of the teacher awaiting for a response with a quirked eyebrow, the question hovering above it.

"Yeah. Sorry." Frank chewed his lower lip as he handed the teacher the slip he showed to each of his instructors that day. His spine tingled as his peripheral vision registered Gerard rigidly balanced in his seat across the room, struggling to ignore his presence calling out to him.

"Nice. We're finishing reading The Great Gatsby today, I have a copy for you." The teacher slid open the top drawer of his desk to reveal a weathered copy of a novel Frank's eyes studied many times on his own, stacked above a hardcover textbook with a highlighter yellow sticky note with Frank's full name scrawled messily onto it in red ink. "I'm already assigning a major project for this today, but I can excuse you from it so you have time to finish reading and do something else instead."

"That won't be necessary, I've read this one." Frank carefully took the books being offered to him in his hands, lightly shaking his head.

"You won't have an issue with doing a project on it?" The teacher, Mr. Wayne, asked skeptically.

"We read this at my old school and I've picked it up a few times after that." Frank pursed his lips, unsure of how he felt about being doubted.

"Oh." Mr. Wayne's expression cleared into a neutral look as he sat back in his desk chair. "That's good. We have assigned seats in that classroom, so I seated you next to Gerard Way. He's in the last seat on the last row to the right."

Assigned seats were never amusing for students to hear, but the moment Frank's ears captured the name, the plummeting of his gut resumed from where it began previously. The dryness developing in his throat was similar to cobwebs twirling patterns against the soft inner lining. He forced himself to swallow back a word of protest, nodding helplessly, and turned on his heels to slowly start down the row towards his assigned seat. Frank kept his eyes on the books cradled on his hands, partially focusing on not somehow loosing his footing over the slick linoleum and dedicating the rest of his strength to not raising his eyes to be ensnared by the trap awaiting in Gerard's, suffocating him with bizarre emotion that wasn't his own flooding in his brain forcefully. Frank almost tripped over someone's bag, but they pushed it out of the way by hooking their ankle around it and sliding it underneath their desk.

Frank pushed the plastic chair out to make room for himself. He sank down onto it, the metal legs creaking slightly underneath his weight, his heart pounding as his face was engulfed in an unflattering shade of red. He sensed Gerard tensing more if it were possible as he set his books onto the cool surface of the desk and shed his bag for it to rest between his feet after sliding a pencil out from the pocket in the front. Frank cursed the fact that the desks were pushed so close together that the inseams were practically glued to stay in place. His sensitivity to invisible sensations others couldn't feel for themselves left him a victim to practically being able to envision reaching out and touching the thickness of the atmosphere only enveloping himself and Gerard, the chill of it frosting over Frank's entire being coming close to quivering. He'd never encountered someone with energy like Gerard's. His was strong enough to bare what Frank imagined the combined auras from other people being instilled into one singular person felt like. Enough to transfer Frank into another realm of existence where desolation was the only residence there aside from the thunder and viscous lightening of Gerard Way's soul.

From the corner of his eye, Frank dared to steal a glance at Gerard. At the beginning, his eyes only landed on his arms bared to the heated classroom after he'd draped his coat across the back of his seat. His sleeves were rolled towards his forearms and Frank's eyes wandered across the veins underneath the porcelain skin dotted with random freckles, muscles thin as his discreet gaze continued to trail upwards and not downwards where his hands were clasped together so tightly that Frank questioned if it ached as much as it appeared. His eyes slid upwards and he was startled to find Gerard peering from the corner of his eye as well, unintentional eye contact Frank quickly shied away from to prevent sinking into those eyes like the times before. His breath quickened slightly as his heart began thunderously hammering after making some progress on slowing its demanding rhythm. Frank sighed, ashamed to discover it trembled when he released it, and opened his battered book to the page written in marker on the board up front.

The tension didn't lessen as the class dragged on. The challenge to focus was one Frank couldn't ring triumphant in for once. The feeble attempts to paint images in his mind as the class read over the remainder of the assigned novel were lesser than helpful as Frank couldn't avoid paying no mind to Gerard's wildly uncomfortable posture beside him. The way he carried himself caused Frank to feel the same, unintentionally growing rigid before he caught himself and relaxed, toying with the lip ring pierced through his lip as an anxious habit he picked up as soon as he was relieved of the sore tenderness of a puncture. Time bled as slowly as tar dribbling through a riverbank, seeping onto the parched earth as its own sluggish pace driving Frank's mind onto the brink of insanity as he constantly looked towards the clock. He hoped the informing strokes of the hands on the clock were behind and he could escape from the classroom sooner than it made him believe. His frustration built each time he realized only a scarce amount of minutes passed whenever he went to check the time. It wasn't merely impatience, it was nearing desperation.

When the last page was turned and the students shut their books, Frank mimicked their actions and rested his lingering hands on the book, realizing he hadn't absorbed any of the reading they'd done. The sounds were muffled as if he submerged his head in a body of water to block out the noise. Frank pushed the book aside somewhat aggressively, causing it to fall with a thud, and a few heads turned to glance at the source of the sound. Frank swore under his breath, leaning down to pick up the book as blood filled his cheeks to show off his embarrassment boldly to strangers. He set it back onto the desk in a safe position so he wouldn't accidentally send it flying again. As he settled upright again, he noticed Gerard was leaning forward on the desk with his elbows propped up, hanging his head supported by his hands curling deeply into his dark locks sliding between his fingers like streamers of pitch silk. He slowly shook his head back and forth, appearing alarmingly unwell. In a striking moment, Frank questioned if the reason behind Gerard's behavior was a sickly feeling. A flicker of doubt loomed at the back of his mind, but Frank couldn't help but notice no other students were concerned with Gerard's current state.

"Are you okay?" Frank pushed the bleakness to the back of his mind as insistently as he could, although it lingered in the back of his throat. He was afraid now that he'd spoken to Gerard, adrenaline spiking cold in his bloodstream. Maybe he'd been mistaken, maybe his empathetic streak would result in disaster, but all he could do was wait for an answer after speaking up.

The sound of Frank's voice pulled Gerard to the surface. The taut pull of the muscles in his back flexed, similar to the roll of a shiver passing through his body. Gerard slid his fingers through his hair, drawing back the slightest bit for his head to tilt to the side, eyes shifting in Frank's direction underneath the protective shade of long eyelashes flaring out in delicate curls. His piercing gaze attached to Frank's, bounds curling tightly around Frank's resolve to remain planted to gravity, and the attempts to keep grounded were futile as they were incinerated by the smoldering flames within coal black irises. Frank's heart twisted within his chest and sank low past his ribcage as misery infiltrated his system. His senses were drowned by the incessant waves of pure sadness falling darkly upon his insides like it was birthed from the center of his heart as a result of some form of unwilling sacrifice that wasn't his own. The intake of emotion was so violent that Frank flinched back, fingers curling around the corner of the desk the same as Gerard's, only his own slipped against the smooth wood as cold sweat rose to the tips of his fingers.

As they stared each other down, Frank felt his eyes welling with tears to have insight on the kind of suffering just churning in Gerard. What sort of awful occurrences had to be witnessed by a single person to cause such despairing emotion? Frank felt defeated, still within a moving universe, and the feeling wasn't his own, yet it couldn't be counted as unreal. It was the agony of a mangled heart suffering from every form of loss. His sympathies inflated in a swelling motion working through the borrowed hurting, tearing the breath from his lungs. He knew nothing about Gerard Way, but he knew too much simultaneously. Frank's expression was shifting, his eyes glistening as he struggled to withhold the urge to release what struck him on the inside.

"I'm so sorry." Frank whispered mournfully, as if offering condolences to a person who lost a dearly loved one. Perhaps that was one of the grievances resting on Gerard's shoulders.

Gerard's stony expression slowly drained of the frigidness hardening his otherwise exquisite features. Shock orchestrated the movement of his brows, the part of his delicately shaped lips, and the black holes in his irises softened as Frank looked at him the way he did. Frank's gut twisted and he swallowed hard, feeling a single tear escape. At the sight of it, Gerard's expression was flashing with an unidentifiable look. Frank wouldn't be able to solve the mystery of it because Gerard was shooting up and out of his seat, the metal of the chair legs scraping harshly against the linoleum. Frank stared, puzzled as he wiped his tear away, and all of their classmates turned to look curiously.

"Gerard, what are you doing?" Mr. Wayne asked sternly as he watched Gerard robotically pack his things in a haste, grabbing tightly onto his backpack.

"I'm sick. I need to get out of here." Gerard wretched out in a voice that would've been pleasant to hear if it wasn't made coarse and tight.

"Without telling me first?" The teacher raised his eyebrows high in disbelief.

Wordlessly, Gerard stormed down the aisle, turning sharply at the end and stalking towards the door. He yanked it open, disappearing through it, and it shut harshly enough behind him to make the entire class startle, Frank included. His heart was pounding, his stomach roiling intensely enough for him to consider he might need to be excused as well for feeling ill. He breathed through his nose, ignoring the glances tossed his way since he was Gerard's seating partner. Frank stared down at his desk, his mind spinning as if he stumbled off a rickety rollercoaster built to twist at sickening degrees and zip through the air at a speed almost defying the laws of all things possible.

After the incident, class eventually resumed. Mr. Wayne called the office, quietly asking about the situation, and it all seemed to be in the clear when he was given answers. They discussed the book, although Frank wasn't listening much as he struggled to unscramble his mind, rubbing at his temples to chase the lingering remnants of darkness he caught into while searching Gerard's eyes. There was a strange feeling after that irked Frank deeply, a complex concoction of warning signals and something tasting of honey resting in the sunshine underneath his tongue. Frank was shaken by the impact remaining even after Gerard stormed out without another word. Despite his excuse, Frank knew Gerard wasn't ill. He was disturbed somehow, but Frank couldn't figure out why.

Mr. Wayne announced their project for the book would depend on combined effort between each student and their seating partner. The second it was revealed, Frank's heartbeat spiked again, his eyes flickering between the front of the room and the empty seat beside him. He sighed deeply, planting his open palm across his forehead. How was he meant to get anything done when his partner was not only gone, but the worst enigma Frank had ever come across? It was an assignment destined to fail miserably. Frank would more than likely be forced to do all the work; normally, he wouldn't complain since the assignment was fairly easy, creating a drawing or finding a song to demonstrate their understanding of the novel followed by a paper explaining the understanding. But, in a situation such as the one he was entangled in, Frank's head started to throb.

As everyone began to discuss the assignment during the final ten minutes of the class, Mr. Wayne approached Frank and spoke to him in a hushed tone.

"If Gerard doesn't come back in the next few days because he's not feeling well, I can extend the due date for you if you think you need it." The teacher offered, capturing the way Frank sulked while staring down at the sheet of paper explaining their assignment.

Frank looked up at Mr. Wayne, blinking a few times as he sorted his thoughts. "It's fine, I can turn it in on time by myself."

"You're okay with possibly having to work by yourself?"

"Yeah, I've had to do it before."

"Did you notice anything wrong with him before he stormed out like that?" Mr Wayne leaned back slightly and crossed his arms over his chest, his brows furrowed.

"I—I noticed he was, like, just sitting there with his head between his hands for a little while." Frank stumbled over his words slightly to be put on the spot, red blooming under his face. "I really believe he wasn't feeling well. I asked if he was okay, he didn't answer me."

"The nurse told me he went home early." Mr. Wayne said, nodding slowly. "Thank you. Pack up, the bell is about to ring."

Frank nodded, loading his things into his bag as the teacher returned to the front of the room to sink into his desk chair.

Frank's hands were unsteady when the bell rang and everyone rose up out of their seats. He slung his bag over his shoulder and waited for the largest mass of the crowd to pass through the door before slipping out of the classroom, sucking in a deep breath as some of the heaviness inside faded. He weaved his way through the herds of people passing through the halls to make his way to gym class, his mind assaulted by constant images of Gerard's cold stare and his stunned expression when Frank apologized to him. He suspected Gerard was confused by his utterance, which he could understand, because his ability wasn't something widely known. He mostly kept it to himself so no one would feel like their privacy was being invaded each time he came around. Reading others was natural to him as it was always there since before his memory could still recall, and others mistook him as overly empathetic when he was younger. Frank learned from his mother that it wasn't ordinary when he made a comment in the third grade about sensing a classmate's sadness while she mourned over the passing of her loyal family dog. Frank wept alongside her, puzzling his classmates because he wasn't properly acquainted with her, but it resulted in a friendship lasting until she moved away one summer to Colorado.

The burden was never so intense until Frank came across the teen carrying enough sorrow for it to nearly weigh as much as the entire population's combined sadness. Frank was still distracted heavily by the series of events passing through one day and the consequence of being distracted during gym meant being pelted by dodgeballs taking advantage of his vulnerability while he stood there lost in his head. One older kid threw hard enough for it to leave a red imprint on Frank's cheek, the harsh blow causing Frank to curse and stumble across the floor. The ear splitting whistle hanging around the teacher's neck had sliced through the air as she yelled at the kid to tone down the intensity of his throw and to be cautious of his aim. The senior only snickered and resumed shamelessly until the coach separated him from the exercise. Rubbing his throbbing cheek, Frank settled for paying more attention until the end of the period to beware of the dodgeballs being thrown.

When school was finally over and Frank retrieved his required text books from his locker for homework, he escaped to the parking lot, relieved to find the rain paused for the time being. He was steps away from his truck when he heard familiar voices calling out his name some spaces away from him. Frank halted, turning his head to see Adam and Frances standing near a faded forest green Nissan, waving him down once they caught his attention.

"Hey." Frank called back, waving in return.

"We're going to grab some slushies from the gas station and jam out with Ray at his place." Adam drew his car keys from the pocket of his jacket. "You wanna join us?"

Frank couldn't imagine who would crave a slushy in the type of weather they were having, but he refrained from commenting on that piece and considered Adam's offer for a short moment.

"Uh, I don't think I should." Frank awkwardly swayed in his spot. "My mom probably wants me to be home after my first day."

"Really?" Frances asked, disappointment matching the shrinkage of her smile.

"Yeah, and I just got here on Saturday, y'know?" Frank knew his mother would eventually be fine with him going out with friends, but he took her into consideration for the first week. "Maybe next time. I have to figure out what I'm gonna do with my project for english class, too."

"Damn, who did you get stuck with as a partner?" Adam leaned against the side of his car, nodding once questionably.

Frank felt a flush creeping up along the sides of his face, soon engulfing it entirely. "Um. Gerard Way."

"No fucking way! Seriously?" Frances gasped loudly and Adam startled out a laugh straight from his gut.

"Yeah." Frank squirmed with unease, fiddling with his truck keys. "He got sick, so he stormed out of the class, and. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be doing this on my own."

"Jesus, what a dick move." Frances fumed, crossing her arms across her chest as she jutted her hip out to display her disapproval.

"I mean, he looked pretty unwell." Frank faintly noted, his eyes falling towards the ground. He wouldn't reveal the finer details in the center of a parking lot with rain threatening to spill again.

"Well, good luck with that, man. He probably faked it to get out of doing anything." Adam said, shaking his head with a faint frown. "I won't keep you. Have a good rest of your day, Frank, nice to meet you."

Frank's smile wasn't bright, but sincere, and he captured the answering smiles of his friends bidding him goodbye.

"Nice meeting you both." Frank waved and waited for them to go their separate ways to climb into his truck to start on his way home.

When Frank arrived, he scurried into the house as the first sprinkles warning him of another round of heavy rain began dusting his cheeks the moment he hopped out of his thunderous vehicle. Frank's mother answered the door soon after he knocked, revealing a smoky scent from the inside that alarmingly made him aware of her frazzled appearance as she greeted him.

"Uh, is everything alright?" Frank asked as he stepped through the doorway, his eyebrows angled in a concerned arch.

Linda sighed heavily, wiping her hands covered in what appeared to be flour onto her apron dusted in the same substance, a smear of a darker powder running across her forehead. Tendrils of her hair came down loose from her bun resting at the nape of her neck, grays catching the reflective light from the bright whites and dull colors outdoors.

"I tried to bake a cake from scratch and the baking time I inserted was for the cake that serves a whole party." Frank's mother flushed, squeezing her eyes shut as she rubbed the pads of her thumbs across her eyelids. "I made the one that serves four people. That required a different time."

Suddenly, Frank understood the scent of something burning directing him towards the kitchen. He went pale as it intensified while he slowly inched in, the door to the oven hanging open to release curls of smoke rising from a nearly entirely blackened cake collected in a glass pan. It escaped through the open window willing the residue of the burned sweet to avoid triggering the smoke alarmed. Frank cringed, secondhand embarrassment causing a crimson flush of his own to crawl up his neck towards his cheeks.

"Jesus. I don't think we can save it even if we scraped the top off." Frank inspected the messy counter piled with ingredients along with the explosion of flour spilling onto Linda as well.

"This is why I never bake." Linda was the epitome of agitation as she stormed into the kitchen, sliding her hands into mitts to extract the pan from inside the over. She placed it on the counter over a towel she'd spread out in preparation, more than likely anticipating a lesser burned creation when she initially laid it across the surface. She slammed the oven shut, causing Frank to flinch slightly from the harshness of the sound.

"I'm sure it's happen to plenty of people." Frank quietly tried to make matters lighter, unsure of whether or not his words would only worsen Linda's severe disappointment.

"I just wanted to bake a cake for my kid's first day at a new school, is that too much to ask?" Linda unleashed another deep sigh, shedding the mittens and slapping them back into the drawer filled with other kitchen fabrics and rags.

Frank sensed the weight of her negativity targeting her own self, and with the sentiment behind her mission, his sympathies extended to her. He wasn't exactly sure how to express them since he wasn't as familiar with her as he was with his father, but he found it right to step towards her, plucking a rag from the inside of the drawer hanging open. He smiled disarmingly at her and reached out to wipe the smudge of cinnamon from her forehead. Linda reeled back slightly, confused, until Frank chuckled and showed her to substance transferred onto the rag.

"It's fine, mom, don't be so hard on yourself." Frank folded the rag in half and erased the remnants of cinnamon sprinkled across Linda's cheekbone. "I'll clean up and make us some dinner."

"Frankie, leave that to me. I'm sure you had a long day at school." Linda untied the apron from around her neck and removed it.

"Wasn't long enough to keep me from helping." Frank insisted, although he did feel drained internally. He felt for his mother, so instead of shooing out of the kitchen to take advantage of her kindness, he shed his bag along with his jacket to roll up his sleeves, approaching the mess to begin placing everything back in order without another word.

Linda didn't complain, but the warmth creeping into the ghost of her smile remained as they worked together to put things back into place, wiping down the counters as well as opening another window protected by a screen to air out the scent of burned sweet bread from the area. Frank helped scrape the pan clean into a trash bag, sympathizing with Linda's saddened frown as it tumbled in darkened chunks into the garbage. He disposed of the bag before she could linger too long on the thought and began digging through the fridge, retrieving ingredients for simple spinach and mushroom pasta. He was handy in the kitchen, and talented when it came to preparing dishes, so he'd been told. He assured Linda of his skill as he began separating the ingredients into strainers to rinse them thoroughly underneath the cool stream of water spilling from the sink faucet. She took the initiative to boil salted water for the pasta, waving a glass container of rich alfredo sauce to enhance the flavor of the dish.

Frank did most of the work on his own account, but didn't turn down Linda's offers for small favors to lend a helping hand so she didn't feel her presence was a burden in any way while he cooked. She set the table when dinner was nearly finished, only requiring a hint of pepper flakes and more parmesan to mix into the mouthwatering pan of pasta soaked in simmering sauce, accompanied by ripe mushroom halves tangled in forest green strips of spinach. Frank filled two bowls with pasta once he turned the heat off and carried them to the table for them to dig in, their stomachs rumbling with anticipation building from the aroma filling the household.

"Where'd you learn how to cook like this? Your dad sure doesn't know how." Linda asked curiously as she twirled pasta around her fork.

"I taught myself." Frank smiled faintly, popping a mushroom half into his mouth.

"Maybe you can teach me. I'm not the best in the kitchen, I don't know if you can tell." Linda chuckled.

Frank quietly agreed, and they fell into a comfortable silence as they worked through their dinner, occasionally pausing to sip at their cans of soda resting at their setting. Frank wasn't bothered by silence; he preferred it over force small talk and conversation the way his father's wife tended to do while they ate at the table. There was only so much to be shared in a singular day, especially when everyone worked around a specific routine that rarely changed.

Eventually, Linda made conversation, but it wasn't anything Frank hadn't expected her to ask. "How was school?"

Frank slowed his pace, coming to a pause after he was finished chewing. He set his fork down momentarily, his stomach turning as his thoughts immediately directed towards the unpleasant factors. He shoved the images aside, prepared to paint a satisfactory image for his mother.

"Not too bad. The classes are pretty easy so far. I made a few friends, they asked me to sit with them at lunch." Frank sucked his lower lip into his mouth to toy with the silver hoop attached to it.

"Really? I might know them, what are their names?" Linda brightened instantly.

"Adam Lazzara, Ray Toro, and . . . Frances Bean? I don't think that's her real last name, she says her friends call her that." Frank came to the realization that he didn't catch her surname.

"I don't think I know her or the first one, but I know Ray Toro. His mother is a saint." Linda smiled approvingly.

"He's pretty nice." Frank assumed his kind nature was inherited.

"He plays guitar, too. Do any of your other friends play?"

"Adam does, I think Frances does, too. We all have similar taste in music. That's how they found me."

"That's good you made friends you can get along with easily."

Frank nodded, falling short on how else to reply as his thoughts were once again flooded with images of coal black eyes whispering a haunting tale of bleak melancholy and something enchanting along the sidelines. Then, he recalled a fact Frances told to him, the part in her surplus of information where Mrs. Way worked as a doctor at the Astoria hospital, the same working place as his mother who took on the night shift.

"You know a lot of people here because you're a nurse, right?" Frank began hesitantly, his tongue nudging his piercing as his heartbeat stuttered with nerves.

"Yes." Linda nodded.

"Do you know anything about the Way family?" Frank was practically riding the tails of Linda's answering, catching himself off guard by the speed of his response.

"I work with Dr. Way! She's a joy to be around, so kind." Linda immediately beamed at the mention of the name instead of her face twisting into a look of mild distaste the way everyone else's did.

"Her kids go to my school." Frank slowly wrapped his fingers around his fork after abandoning his food. "My friends were saying they're kind of . . . weird."

"Well, they're all very smart kids with bright futures ahead of them. They're lucky to have a good parental figure to look after them." Linda shook her head to disagree with other opinions on the family. "Don't go with the crowd and judge them so harshly. They're all just very introverted and mature for their age."

"Have you met them?" Frank asked, keeping his expression void of anything negative so she wouldn't become suspicious of whether or not he had an encounter with one of the Ways.

"I've only gotten to know Kristin. She's come to the hospital a few times."

"The one who's dating Michael." Frank mentioned the thought aloud without fully realizing it until hismother nodded.

"I wouldn't let them be together and live under the same roof, but . . ." Linda shrugged. "Michael met and fell for Kristin in school when they lived in Washington. He found out she and Alicia were in an orphanage together and Mrs. Way felt bad for them. She took the girls in almost immediately."

The explanation behind a questionable situation suddenly cleared away the mist hovering towards one subject in an abundance of one enigma. Frank nodded, thoughtfully taking another mouthful of noodles so his dinner wouldn't grow cold from his lengthy pauses between bites.

"They're all scarily good looking." Frank noted, blood swirling beneath his cheeks to color them.

"You think so?" Linda raised her eyebrows, taking interest in Frank's comment.

"Well — it's, uh, a little obvious, isn't it?" Frank stammered under her inquisitive observation.

"I agree with you. I can't find a flaw in any of them." Linda chuckled. "Does the girl interest you? Alicia?"

"What?"

"You know, if you find the girl attractive . . . I can see if I can arrange something." Linda offered, smiling faintly. "You're a very smart and responsible kid, you might be a good match."

Frank's flushing cheeks escalated to a flaming face. At a loss for words, Frank merely lost a firm grip over his dinner utensil and it clattered loudly against the bowl, ringing out harshly enough for him to glance down in a panic to inspect the ceramic in case he caused any chips. The lack of destruction brought his focus back to Linda's offer he hadn't expected, odd laughter bubbling in his throat that he suppressed for how inappropriate it felt to release it before responding at all.

"I — I think you're getting the wrong idea, mom." Frank breathed, shaking his head through a partially horrified smile. "I was just curious about them."

"Oh? That's my bad." Linda's eyes grew nearly as wide as Frank's.

"It's fine, I mean, I guess it would be easy to assume I'd be interested in someone that . . . abnormally gorgeous." Frank fidgeted thinking of the beyond airbrushed beauty he didn't think was possible to find in a human being.

"All the male nurses turn into fools around Dr. Way." Linda said with amusement.

"Yeah. I can imagine why, if her kids look the way they do." Frank cleared his throat as lingering hesitation and questioning hovered around his head. "I'm just not interested in Alicia personally. I like shyer girls."

It wasn't obvious to others because he didn't follow stereotypes, but Frank was interested in both sexes. Although, he noticed after some thought that his tendencies lied with men more often than women, but it wasn't intentional, he imagined he could settle with any gender or someone who didn't identify as either. Frank hadn't gotten the chance to sit down with his mother to discuss his sexuality the way he'd done with his father, who didn't have strong enough communication patterns with his mother to pass the message along. At that moment, Frank wondered if instead of planning out an uncomfortable conversation, he could casually make a comment that would cause the pieces to click together in Linda's head. She was intelligent, surely enough she'd understand as it sank in.

"I think Gerard is the most good looking." Frank risked tossing out a comment before he could think more clearly in the matter and back out. Despite his bizarre experience with the artistic Way brother, Frank couldn't deny his mind frequently flickered to images of Gerard already burning their way into his memory like the scars of a branding iron pressing down on his mind.

After the comment was up in the air, Frank pretended to be fixated on his dinner as he dug back in with more enthusiasm. His heartbeat rose a notch, reminding him of the anxiety twisting his insides the day he planned on coming out to his father. Frank didn't fear for the worst, yet he wasn't expecting the most welcoming approach on the planet. Frank picked up on the way Linda froze for a moment as she absorbed Frank's words, the implications tangled within the deliverance of each syllable Frank applied thickly so it wouldn't slip past the most oblivious person. He swallowed a mouthful of food, pausing alongside his mother as he waited patiently for her reaction.

"You do?" Linda asked first, surprise coloring her softer spoken tone.

Frank licked his lips, guiding his soda can towards his lips for the aluminum to brush up against them, but he didn't take a sip yet. "Yeah. He's — uh, kind of beautiful."

Another moment of stunned silence passed. Frank took a swig of his soda, his gulp too grand so it felt painful as it slid down his throat. He winced slightly at the burn of the carbonation and set the can onto the table. He didn't raise his eyes from the table out of fear he'd have a visual of Linda's reaction before she put it into words. Frank drummed his fingers against the table as his patience began to waver for worry to overtake, straightening his spine in preparation to defend himself.

"I . . . don't know if he's interested in boys, but. Maybe I can ask the doctor for you." Linda slowly inserted her thoughts the same way Frank had. Discreet, yet the implications dripped heavily from her words.

Suddenly, Frank's caution vanished as if it never existed. He read into the atmosphere, gathering no sense of falsehood within it, and a silent sigh of relief filtered through his lungs.

"No, that's fine, I'm not looking for anything to happen between me and him." Frank finally lifted his eyes to meet Linda's that were still slightly stunned, but held no resentment. "But . . . thank you." For accepting me.

Linda softened, sitting less rigidly after the surprise she was in for. She gathered her fork in her hand and smiled discreetly. "Let me know if you change your mind."

They resumed eating in comfortable silence stretching out until they finished cleaning up the mess and parted ways to settle in with their own tasks.

Frank struggled trying to organize his project for English after completing his trigonometry homework with flying colors thanks to the power of the internet at his side. His artistic skills were practically all absent when it came to making an actual piece, which left him troubled trying to select a song to reflect on his understanding of The Great Gatsby. Halfway through scrolling through his music library stored on his computer, Frank's cellphone rang where it rested on the nightstand. His father was calling, bringing an automatic smile to his face.

"Hey dad." Frank answered after accepting the call.

"Hey Frankie, how's it going over there?" Frank Sr's rougher voice filtered through the speaker with genuine interest compared to how distant he seemed the past few days.

"Very stormy." Frank chuckled, glancing out the window towards the new downpour. "It's rained more here in three days than it's rained in a single year back home."

"I hope the gloom isn't taking such a toll on you."

"Eh, it's . . . manageable, I guess." Frank shrugged his shoulders.

"Great. You had your first day at the high school, right?"

"That's right." Frank chewed his lower lip as his attention pointed towards the computer screen again. "I'm already tackling a project with a partner who mysteriously got sick before it was assigned."

"Jeez, didn't the teacher think to cut you some slack?"

"He offered, but I'm fine." Frank diverted his thoughts away from Gerard Way, refusing to let the unsettling feeling tear down the progress he built away from him.

"Did you make friends?" On the other line, Frank could hear Lorelei speaking in the distance, along with the laughter of others making rounds after. Frank envisioned them in social setting, enjoying their free time with company.

"I made three. They're pretty cool, we have a lot of in common."

"That's great. Don't get in trouble so soon with those kids, hey?"

Frank rolled his eyes, refraining from laughing. "I'll turn down the party animal in me."

Frank's father laughed, causing Frank's smile to stretch further. "Nice to hear you're adjusting fine, Frankie."

"Yeah, as best as I can. Hey, um, I kind of came out to mom today at dinner." Frank tapped his fingertips across his desk, angling his chair away from the desk.

"How did that go?" Frank's father sounded surprised.

"As good as I hoped. But she also wasn't overbearing."

"Good to know." Frank's father commented distantly before shouting away from the phone, a round of boisterous laughter sounding from the other line.

"What are you guys up to?" Frank asked out of curiosity.

"Just hanging at a sports bar right now, your stepmom is one hell of a football fan." He sounded as if he took pride in having a partner who understood a man's fascination with sports. Frank was never fully intrigued by it, but he enjoyed spending quality time with his father by watching games with him on the couch, grinning whenever he shouted enthusiastically at the screen.

"Is she like one of the guys?" Frank asked, amused by the thought of Lorelei dressed in a jersey while shouting at the sprinting athletes launching themselves across a field of green.

"You bet." Frank Sr. drifted off again as exclamations loudly broke out over an alleged touchdown Frank couldn't see.

"Dad, you don't have to stay on the phone for long, you can go enjoy the game." Frank noticed his father's attention was being divided.

"You sure? I wanted to check in on you to make sure you're doing alright over there."

"I'm alive, that's the only thing you should really worry about." Frank chewed the corner of his thumbnail, withholding a sigh as he thought everyone out of state was surely having a better time than Frank at the moment, his computer screen dimming in preparation to fade to black due to inactivity.

"Awesome. Be nice to your mom, just stay out of trouble. You should cook for her like you do for us, that woman never learned how to cook without burning something."

"I know. Noted. Have a good time, dad."

Frank Sr. mumbled a goodbye before the line went silent, and Frank set down his cellphone with the sigh being held in his throat. He pursed his lips, glancing at the dark computer screen, the pitch shade drawing his mind back to the void of two irises baring the weight of the universe's anguish inside them. Chills erupted in Frank and slithered down his spine unpleasantly, until he tasted familiar sweetness beneath his tongue hinting something further created the strange soul belonging to Gerard Way. No matter which path Frank's mind took, it always directed back to the enigmatic figure spreading out like a bizzare puzzle Frank couldn't piece together because of the multiple missing details he knew better than to search for. Yet, something cried out to him as he shut his eyes, wading in a frozen river paving the way through his mind he considered corrupted ever since he knew about the Way family, their peculiar beauty and stone cold shells encasing seemingly normal human beings for the way they lived out their lives.

That night, after smoking three cigarettes in a row outside when the rain fell in dusting droplets hardly enough to soak through anything, Frank showered and settled into bed with lurking thoughts disrupting his peace. His annoyance seeped through at his lack of success for his project thus far, leaving him wondering if his partner would somehow come through in the following days- but the solid weight of doubt settled in his stomach. His distress became tangled in how his father seemed somewhat attentive that day, but far off, more eager to consult with his friends and new bride instead of showing enthusiasm over Frank the way he used to. Frank wasn't bothered in the beginning, but his tendency to overly reflect caught the best of him, especially when he longed for nothing but sleep. He captured the lack of communication with the people he considered friends and eventually discarded his phone after scrolling through social media, watching them move along together without him fitting into the frame of their pictures the way he used to.

For the first time since arriving to Astoria, Frank felt the weight pressing down on his chest. The absence of the things he cherished most sank in, along with the sound of melancholy rain thundering down onto the rooftops, and a single teardrop was allowed to slip from the corner of his eye before Frank swatted it away in frustration. He couldn't pout over his own decisions. He knew it was for the best to give his father some time to himself and to his kind new wife, but his insecurities webbed together unpleasantly and didn't blend well with the sound of the rain outside. Frank squeezed his eyes shut, halting the tightness in his throat followed by the warm tears accumulating in his ducts, and forced himself into sleep so they would've have a chance to fall onto his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like comments and hearing everyone’s thoughts, so don’t be shy, I’ll be glad to read them :,)


	4. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Gerard so full of questions all of a sudden?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!

The following days, just as Frank suspected, Gerard Way didn't attend school. His absence stuck out to Frank like a sore thumb each time his distracted eyes wandered to the table his family sat at, the emptiness occupying his chair ringing out to Frank like the hum of a siren. Only, Frank didn't find beauty within its call, only rising aggravation to know the burden of a project made for a duo rested on him alone. Above all things, Frank couldn't help but overanalyze the events of Friday afternoon, the hostility thickening the atmosphere between the pair given no other choice but to sit next to the other in class. He wondered if he played a factor in Gerard's rigidness, if his alleged illness wasn't the only matter causing Gerard to escape the classroom as soon as possible. Maybe he'd developed a form of loathing for Frank going according to a few glances, taking in his appearance and deciding he was unbearable, so insufferable that it couldn't be ignored. If that were the case at hand, Frank was run speechless and dry, never having experienced being the target of an inexplicable deep hatred birthed for no good reason. Being teased and shoved around a few times in his life was no match to that. He'd been irritated by some individuals in the past for nothing, but he could never hate anyone without knowing them first.

Frank managed to tie together a somewhat decent rough draft for the project, his words flowing together nicely on paper before he eventually transferred it onto a digital document, but the bothersome factor of an absent partner took a larger toll on him than he expected. He soon came to the conclusion that it wouldn't irk him as deeply if it was anyone else. Frank kept replaying Gerard's behavior in his mind, only fueling his frustration, and unanswered questions fluttered through his brain like morning birds chirping loudly beside his ear when he only longed for sleep seeming more than desirable for an exhausted head. Frank couldn't put his all into his work if there was a blockage always materializing once again no matter how many times he dismantled it. As long as his grade depended on it, he refused to fall short on his performance and trudged on to complete it however he could by himself.

On Thursday at the eve of the afternoon, Frank was relieved to depart from his classroom and join his newfound group of friends along the way to the cafeteria rapidly filling with students. The rain outside came to a momentary pause, encouraging some students to wander out to the courtyard with umbrellas hovering above their heads, while Frank and his friends preferred to remain indoors. They knew the tricky weather, the pause between showers wouldn't last long. Frank wandered into the cafeteria while listening in on Frances ranting passionately about the importance of feminism after the subject was brought up at random in her biology class. She carried her energy to the group, partially irritating Adam meanwhile Ray agreed with every detail without missing a beat. Frank was content with listening, as he normally did, joining in quietly on laughter or grimaces instead of speaking up so often. He still socialized, but he always preferred to listen whenever he was near new people he wasn't fully comfortable around yet. He'd get there, he supposed, but it would be a matter of time before he crawled out of his shell.

"You ready to meet Miss Goldsworthy today?" Adam turned to Frank as they filled their trays and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Miss Goldsworthy?" Frank wasn't familiar with the surname, but he was fond of the sound of it. It carried a pleasant ring.

"Kayleigh. She said she's sitting with us today, she has no business to take care of today." Adam bracketed the word he empathized on with air quotes.

"Oh, like . . . the favors she does?" Frank lowered his voice to a whisper.

Adam snickered, grabbing an apple from the variety of fruit lying nearby. "Favors, yeah. Even Wonder Woman needs a break once in a while."

Frank nodded, sliding a wrapped sandwich consisting of cheddar cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and cucumber onto his tray. He was curious about Kayleigh, and he wondered when he'd be introduced to her after the frequent talk about her amongst his friends. He noticed the lack of another individual at their table as they headed towards it, his eyes flickering around the room as he sank down in his spot. Frances surprisingly plopped down beside him, throwing a quick smile over her shoulder as they settled. Frank returned it, ignoring the quirked eyebrow Adam sent in their direction.

"I'm just warning you, dude, Kayleigh's so fucking likable. In a more than friendly way. She's gorgeous." Ray sighed across the table. "But she only dates college guys."

"Why only college guys?" Frank asked, ignoring the part where Ray commented on Kayleigh's attractiveness.

"Frat boys know how to have a good time, I'll give them that." Adam bowed his head and Ray pitched in his agreement.

"Frat boys are also fucking cretins half the time. How is that better?" Frances pouted thoughtfully as she unwrapped the plastic packaging encasing her parfait bowl.

"God knows." Adam frowned and shook his head, glancing up and catching his eyes on something over Frank's shoulder. "Incoming."

Before Frank could turn around, a person walked around the table with a tray in their hands, working their way towards the bench beside Adam. She plopped down weightlessly onto the seat and slammed her tray down, smiling brightly at the group as she settled in.

"My favorite misfit toys." The girl who was so obviously Kayleigh Goldsworthy momentarily had Frank's eyes widening with surprise. Her arrival was quick, no doubt, but automatically Frank didn't feel as unnerved to see her tank top designed with a print of Joan Jett's face, a septum piercing glinting at the end of her delicate nose. She tucked a stylishly choppy tuft of short honey brown hair behind her ear, her nails painted black and chipping around the corners.

"Our favorite southern bell." Adam fluttered his lashes at Kayleigh who grinned pleasantly, shaking her head.

"I don't even have the accent anymore, Adam."

"No, but it'll be missed dearly. The funeral is on Monday."

"Your American accent rubbed off on me." Kayleigh chuckled. "Hey kids, what's up?"

"It's been a while since you've hung out, what have you been up to?" Frances perked up at Kayleigh's arrival.

"Well, I did two essays for two people, and I had detention the other day because my phone rang in the middle of class." Kayleigh sighed deeply and rested her elbow on the table, cradling her cheek with her hand. "Wasn't my fault, it's not like I was texting the whole period."

"Don't even say the word phone around a teacher or they'll confiscate it." Ray opened his can of Sprite, the fizz hissing inside the aluminum.

"You should spread that advice around, maybe it'll help some people." Kayleigh's eyes skipped over Frank, then glanced back immediately, curiosity lighting them. "Hey, you're the new kid everyone's talking about."

"They're still talking about me?" Frank flushed scarlet being under Kayleigh's observant eyes and knowing he was still a topic of discussion in the school.

"They probably won't stop until next month." Kayleigh's laughter reached her eyes bunching up with her smile. "I'm Kayleigh. You're Frank?"

"Yes. I've heard a lot about you from these guys." Frank looked around at his friends.

"All good things?" Kayleigh rose her eyebrows.

"Mostly yes, and now he knows you only date college boys." Adam smiled around the straw he inserted in his mouth to hold as he twisted open a bottle of Coke.

"They're more mature." Kayleigh's cheeks flushed with a soft pink color as she struggled to refrain from grinning.

"I'm not mature enough for you?" Adam pestered.

"You're too good for me, you know that."

"You're an angel who breaks hearts."

Frank smiled to himself at their back and forth, sensing something genuine within their energy as Frank leaned into it further to read Kayleigh. She was charming in a way that reminded him curiously of swaying dandelions in the summer wind. He sensed a higher energy laced within and some wilted edges that told about the secrecy of an old soul, which Frank always enjoyed whenever he came across a person with those qualities.

"I like your piercings." Kayleigh complimented Frank as if it was a secret between them, toying with her own septum piercing as a knowing smile worked onto her lips.

"I like yours." Frank wriggled his lip piercing with the tip of his tongue inside his mouth for it to waggle back and forth visually.

"Thanks. It stung like a bitch, but it's fun to play with."

"My lip piercing was the worst. I think the nose was less painful."

"Maybe for you, I went with Kayleigh to get her septum and she cried." Frances smirked, taking a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth.

"That was a natural instinct!" Kayleigh violently rattled her bottle of water. "He said it was normal for my eyes to water."

"And they kept watering for twenty minutes after that."

"Frances Bean, I'll take you right now to get a septum piercing so you understand."

"I've been thinking of getting one done." Frances beamed.

"You can rock anything and everything you wear. In that topic, I'm gonna steal that shirt." Kayleigh eyed the high collared black shirt Frances wore, sheer lace moving across the neckline and towards the sleeves before the sweetheart cut of the solid black material resting just above her bust.

"You can't steal it, but you can borrow it any time." Frances draped her dark hair across her shoulder that accentuated her pale complexion, her confidence boosted by Kayleigh's compliment. Frank looked away politely when she noticed him taking her in, but only because Frank observed the differences between her and Kayleigh. Frances came off as a cooler spirit blending into the beauty of darkness meanwhile Kayleigh was organic, dressed in lighter colors with golden highlights streaming through her hair. Yet their souls were compatible enough to form a friendships bloomed out of genuine interest, fondness. Frank always enjoyed sensing the pure connections between friends.

"So, Frank, how come you're not super tan if you're from California?" Kayleigh leaned back in her seat and crossed her ankles, a cheeky grin on her face.

"Oh. It's winter right now." Frank glanced at his skin taking a paler tint that could easily become quite fair if he stayed away from the sunlight. "I get fuckin' toasted in the summer."

"Toasted?" Kayleigh's little giggle was joined in by a humored snort coming out of Adam. "I'm gonna guess you're Italian."

"Yeah, half Italian." Frank nodded. "Did my tendency to tan and not burn give me away?"

"Very much, same with your last name. How do you even say that?"

"Eye-ear-oh. Everyone gets it wrong." Frank sighed quietly, reflecting on all the mispronunciations despite numerous repeated corrections he made.

"Fuck. I've been saying it wrong in my head this whole time." Adam barked out a laugh. "Sorry little man, I've never heard that name before."

"It's cool. It's not common." Frank quickly forgave friends who weren't familiar with the name that confused many. "I don't even think we pronounce it right, we just picked a way to say it and rolled with it."

"That's hilarious." Kayleigh giggled again, swishing the remainder of water in her plastic bottle.

"I guess it is." Frank chuckled bashfully, rolling his shoulders back and dropping his eyes down onto the table.

Frank fell mostly silent as he listened to the conversation flourishing at the table, occasionally nodding or offering a shortly worded response whenever he was asked a question. His eyes raised and watched the students, allegedly part of the planning committee, who strung up homemade banners along the cafeteria advertising a homecoming dance taking place in a few weeks from then. The theme appeared to revolve around fairytales, he gathered from the crooked medieval font painted on the posters beside images of poison apples and sparking tiaras near more professionally inked castles. He dully remembered having a similar theme at his previous school, but he was never one to attend dances because of the lack of entertainment he found in them. He couldn't dance, he was easily overwhelmed in large crowds, and the music choices were rumored to be terrible, which lead to him avoiding them at all costs.

"Hey, Frank, are you going to the dance?" Kayleigh asked when she noticed Frank eyeing the banners at the same time she was.

"Uh, I don't think so." Frank shook his head and rolled his lips into his mouth momentarily. "It's not my thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah . . . you don't wanna see me dance. I'm horrible." Frank's breathy laugh was laced in nerves.

"You have a few girls who might wanna go with you if that helps you change your mind."

"What?" Frank's wide eyes lifted to stare at Kayleigh in deep surprise.

Kayleigh laughed, taking a drag of her water. "Yeah, I heard some girls in the locker room earlier talking about how cute you are."

Frank wasn't sure what to do with that information, He shifted in his seat, hearing the sounds of laughter from his friends who tuned in on the exchange.

"He's already getting girls." Adam sounded proud as he thumped his fist on his chest.

"Hey, we normally go in a group if you want to join us." Ray pitched in an offer less intimidating to Frank.

"Maybe. I'll think about it." Frank said to ease out of the topic, but his mind was already set on camping out at home instead of attending. Redness still swirled through his cheeks to know he had admirers he hadn't even noticed. He wasn't exactly interested in anyone at the school, only one individual group standing out to him, but not in the way where any of them earned his attraction.

As if on cue, the doors to the cafeteria were pushed on, and the redirection of Frank's thoughts became consuming when his eyes lifted instinctively towards the sound. As always, the Way family strode gracefully into the cafeteria in a pack, their coats unbuttoned to show off their fashionable clothing telling every onlooker of their wealthier status. Kristin skipped near her boyfriend in designer heels, peering around his lanky body to enthusiastically exchange a word with the person behind him. Frank's eyes followed the path of Kristin's focus, and when they settled, his heart caught in the center of his throat, sinking down into the recesses of his gut so quickly that sparks bounced through his insides already beginning to churn.

Gerard Way joined his family for the first time after a string of absences. Not only was his presence highly noticeable, he was showcasing an entirely new composure compared to the one Frank couldn't tear from his memory. Appearance wise, his beauty was unearthly, but the startling difference capturing Frank's utter shock was a crooked smile lightening his face much more pleasantly. The brooding look vanished without a trace, so much that Frank wondered idly if Gerard had been swapped out with another baring an eerie resemblance. Frank couldn't quit puzzling through it the entire time the Way family gathered their trays quickly and made their way to their reserved table no one dared to trying claiming even when they were missing. Their unapproachable demeanors melted away when they were together, replaced for a look of contentment and comfort. Frank stared from underneath his lashes as Gerard reached across the table to playfully ruffle Kristin's perfectly waved hair. She shrieked in outrage and giggled while leaning over to retaliate. Michael captured by her waist and lowered her back into her seat with a smile of his own as Alicia lightly elbowed Gerard's ribs.

"Are you going to kick Gerard's ass for leaving you in the dust or what?" Frances asked from beside Frank all of a sudden and yanked him out of his state of hypnosis.

Frank flinched slightly coming back to himself. He raised his eyebrows, blushing as he realized he'd been caught staring again. "Huh?"

"He left for days while you had to do his side of your project." Frances furrowed her eyes like she couldn't believe Frank had forgotten.

"Oh . . ." Frank hadn't forgotten about it, but he was side tracked by his initial shock to Gerard returning as if nothing had been out of the ordinary. "He was sick."

"He looks perfectly fine." Frances glanced over at the family's table dubiously.

"If he's back now, it's because he's not sick anymore." Frank didn't want to give anyone the benefit of knowing he felt almost the same. Had Gerard made up an illness just to scramble away? Was it Frank that caused him to react that way?

"You're too nice. I would've told him off." Frances shook her head in disapproval. "Isn't it a coincidence that he got sick on the most important days of planning your project?"

"I don't really want to assume the worst when I don't know the guy." Frank said somewhat dismissively, which normally would've automatically made him feel guilty, but the moment he looked up again, Gerard immediately turned his head and connected their stares.

Frank was struck by the magnetic force of his presence. Once, he felt like a glacier crashing towards disaster in a river above a waterfall the last time he was pinned under Gerard's stare, and although that feeling didn't fade, Frank's breath was taken away to find an alluring pull reminding him of that strange underlying of sunshine catching to the corners of all Gerard was. The increase of it was alarming, almost lifting Frank from his seat if he hadn't developed a sense of self control and dignity through all his years. He gasped quietly in his throat going dry as Gerard observed him without a sign of frigidness in his expression. If anything, he seemed curious, perhaps a bit frustrated the deeper he dug into Frank's soul through his eyes. Frank quickly averted his eyes the second he felt himself being examined; it was nearly invasive, but Frank couldn't deny the thunderous beat of his heart to be viewed with interest by an impeccable beauty. His irritation towards himself grew and he locked his jaw, intending on not looking towards the family's table again.

Lunch went by quicker than normal as an act of defiance against Frank's wishes. When the bell rang to warn students class would be resuming in five minutes, Frank knew with an iron ball curled tight in his gut that the next class he'd be attending was the very one he wished to avoid; English with Gerard Way. He didn't want to experience the heaviness of his presence yet again and scramble to organize his project now that suddenly, his partner wasn't absent, and he wasn't sure what he was going to do. Frank dragged his feet on the way to the classroom after retrieving his book from his locker during passing period. His friends wished him luck, but luck wasn't enough to soothe the irritation brushing up at the back of his mind. He braced himself while getting close to the open doorway and prayed his sensitivity wouldn't be as extreme as last time, that maybe if he focused with perseverance, he wouldn't be as perturbed by the energy radiating off of Gerard.

Frank slipped into the classroom following the herd of students entering in a chattering bunch. He nodded in a silent greeting to his teacher waiting for all of his students to fill the room and kept his eyes down shortly after, making his way down the path until he reached the seat that he sensed Gerard was already near, occupying the space beside him. Frank didn't glance his way as he sank down onto the seat and pushed it in towards the desk, shedding his backpack and undoing the zipper to take out his needed materials. The entire time, he felt a pair of eyes attached to his every movement, and a sprig of discomfort formed in him. Frank took out the folder containing the draft to the project he took care of on his own and sighed to himself, hooking his ankle around his bag on the ground to drag it between his feet.

"Hi." Said an unfamiliar voice from beside Frank. It sounded inviting, taking a middle octave as opposed to the lower note Frank would've expected. A kind tone of voice wasn't what he expected either, not that he awaited any sort of greeting.

Frank turned his head in surprise. His lips fell open slightly to see Gerard staring directly at him without hostility in his expression. Although, he did keep a bit of a stiff posture, but Frank wondered if he always held himself like so. When their eyes met, Gerard's thinner but perfectly shaped lips quirked into a phantom smile striking Frank in the center of his chest. His inky tresses were a dark halo around his pale face and a lock fluttered towards his forehead while Frank stared. Despite putting a block at the forefront of his mind, the startling apparition of Gerard's energy bled through the protective bars to exhibit what he experienced in the lunchroom. Blatant suffering with the most bizarre combination of allure and, now that he was close enough, the traces of the familiarity of an artist's energy.

Frank realized he'd been gawking for far too long without giving an answer. He blushed rose red, dropping his eyes to the folder clutched in his hands. "Uh, hey."

"I'm Gerard. You're Frank?" Gerard continued on past a simple greeting, astounding Frank further. His quiet voice danced on the tips of a soothing wavelength.

"Yeah." Frank confirmed with a quick nod, chewing his lower lip into oblivion.

"I won't point out the obvious and ask if you're the new student, I'm certain you're sick of hearing it." Gerard said with his mesmerizing voice dancing through colors of amusement.

"A little bit." Frank knew his responses were brief, but he couldn't set aside the shock he felt to see Gerard's mood changed drastically compared to the first time he was near him.

"I like your doodles." Gerard noted, confusing Frank at the start, until he quickly remembered the random pictures he inked onto the cover of his folder out of boredom at home. Frank jerked a bit out of embarrassment that Gerard, an allegedly phenomenal artist, took notice of the miniature zombies and ghosts scattered over the folder.

"Uh— I just, I get bored sometimes." Frank cleared his throat as folded his arms over the cover to discreetly block them from view. "But thanks."

Gerard chuckled almost inaudibly beside Frank. "I'm sorry for the sudden change in attitude. I felt very ill all day the last time I was here, I doubt it was a good first impression."

Frank stopped avoiding Gerard's stare and instead looked into it, wondering if he was truthful. Gerard seemed disarming, maybe even guilty after giving an apology. At the evidence Frank pieced together, maybe it was the truth, that illness became Gerard and there was no personal vendetta or attempt to excuse himself from a pending project.

"It's fine. I get it, it happens to me too sometimes." Frank's thumb played with the folded edge of his folder. "I . . . sort of had to plan the group project myself though."

"My sister told me about the project when I asked about what I missed out on." Gerard nodded, rolling his lips into his mouth. He reached into his open bag to obtain a folder Frank identified as one reserved for art. Gerard pulled back the cover and untucked something from inside before securely sliding the folder back into his bag. Gerard's fleeting smile was still breathtaking as he placed the large page onto the desk, sliding it over to Frank with nimble fingers.

To Frank's amazement, when he looked down at the object Gerard set in front of him with a feeling of befuddlement, he discovered the thick sheet of paper was a flawless illustration created by Gerard himself. The image was of a madman weeping in a shadowy yet lavish household, surrounded by shattered strings of pearls, the stems of daisies threaded through his skin in a fashion that should've been gruesome, but it came across as deeply miserable. It was a representation of a specific understanding of The Great Gatsby; it was Gerard's understanding of it.

"I drew it yesterday evening." Gerard explained softly. "I couldn't leave all the work to you."

Frank was speechless for a moment. He drank in the vivid details instilled into the page through pencil, wondering how such a simple object could help depict such a gorgeous illustration. Not only was the drawing breathtaking, but the interpretation of the novel was a match with Frank's; a man with a devouring obsession driving himself into a mad state of despair when all of his efforts were unsuccessful in the end. The daisies undoubtedly were symbols for the woman Gatsby was dangerously in love with who shared a name with the delicate flower.

"You did this in one night?" Frank couldn't believe what he heard.

"Yes?" Gerard lifted his eyebrow as if his abilities were the simplest, most unquestionable things to exist.

"This would normally take other artists at least a day or two." Frank's eyes drank in the attention to detail down to the textures in clothing and the silhouettes of shadows from objects seen in the background.

"I've been drawing for so long that I've come to draw quickly these days." Gerard quietly explained the reasons behind his speedy accomplishment. "I hope that doesn't come across as showing off."

"Not really, no." In Frank's perspective, it showed sheer talent. Not an inch of boastfulness overcame Gerard as he spoke, only immunity to realizing his own abilities. He probably viewed it as more of a hobby than a talent if he pursued it for so long.

"I can help you write the essay during this period. Unless, you'd prefer to do it independently?" Gerard suggested, leaving the option open for Frank to decide. The way he spoke and enunciated has a strange timeless swing to it, making his voice all the more unique, nearly distracting Frank entirely from the actual meaning of the words he spoke.

"Yeah? I mean, I chose a song instead of drawing something because I'm not really artistic enough, this sort of changes the entire essay." Frank scratched the back of his neck as he flushed all the way towards his chest, having not expected the turn of events suddenly unfolding. 

Gerard cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh, I'm sorry. You must've worked hard putting everything together."

"It's fine, it's just a rough draft." Frank shook his head with a soft sigh. "You were sick, you couldn't help it."

Before Gerard was given the chance to respond, the teacher called for the attention of the students after shutting the door the moment the tardy bell rang out through the building. Frank diverted his focus to the front, but felt Gerard's eyes continuously training onto him, causing his insides to churn mysteriously. Frank cupped the side of his neck and refrained from making eye contact for the sake of the blood burning behind his face at the mere thought of Gerard curiously observing him. Normally, others would be discreet, but Gerard fearlessly continued to glance in Frank's direction in lingering sweeps always shaking Frank up anew. He wondered where the sudden shift in interest came from, or if it always stayed lodged in Gerard during his time away, he was only unable to act on it when he fell ill. Frank knew he couldn't give much of a damn about anything when he imagined he could double over from how unwell he felt.

The teacher assigned the class a free period to work on their projects before the rough draft was due for examination. To Frank's relief, that meant an opportunity to repair the project now that Gerard had unexpectedly put his two cents into it. After the teacher was finished speaking and instructed the class to begin, the chatter in the room rose as everyone turned to their partners to discuss either the project or off track subjects if they were mostly finished constructing theirs.

"So . . ." Frank started on an awkward foot. "I can get essays done pretty quickly. I think I can do it today."

"Do you need help?" Gerard offered his assistance.

"Uh, maybe you can just explain to me in detail your interpretation of the book?" Frank nervously clicked the end of the pen he gathered in one hand as his other dragged a binder towards him to jot notes onto paper.

"Perfectly doable. Shall I begin?" Gerard quirked an inquisitive eyebrow as Frank opened the binder up to a blank page.

"Yeah, shoot." Frank poised a readied hand over the paper.

"Well . . . it wasn't a breathtaking romance story Gatsby imagined it was. Undeniably, he was madly in love with Daisy, but the passion wasn't returned as he descended into an obsession tearing their reunion apart."

Frank's eyes widened a fraction as he attempted to simplify the words for easy notes, but managed to ink them down. "Go on." He encouraged a moment later.

"Gatsby tended to manipulate the past and the present to mold them into the ideal world inside his head. The parties and lavish lifestyle were to entice Daisy and return her to him, but it was also based on the obsessive need to be more than he ever truly was and to recreate the past to fit into the image he created for himself.Thus, resulting in him believing his tale with Daisy was perfect and must go his way to appease that idea, or his fantasy would be tarnished. In reality, he was taken with the idea of Daisy, and his love for her evolves into a love for his idealization of her."

Frank paused as he considered the words for himself before transferring them to the page. The amount of dedication to thought and passion put into Gerard's observation was impressive.

"I have a feeling you must've read this outside of the classroom." Frank speculated.

Gerard's eyes captured a twinkle within them enhancing the beauty of his face etched into a mask of faint amusement. To Frank's astonishment, he was not met with the deepest layers of outer space in two rings, but olive green irises with the strangest narrow pupils, flecks of glittering gold floating within them as they flickered down towards Frank's notes.

"I lost count of how many times." Gerard confirmed Frank's suspicions and knocked him out of his mesmerized state.

Frank wiggled his lip ring with the tip of his tongue to refrain from smiling. He began jotting down the notes, and said, "You're spot on. The way you interpret this."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not always. Some people don't think too deeply about it." Frank continued inking the notes onto the page. "Not the part where he's more in love with the idea of Daisy than with the real person."

"Being set on having things be a certain way creates an ideal world that is more of a concept than reality." Gerard mused quietly beside Frank as he came to a close on the notes he took to aid him in writing the new version of the project's essay.

"It's not surprising." Frank added somewhat timidly until Gerard gazed on with intrigue. "I mean — he lived a lie most of the time. He told so many lies that he convinced himself it was all the truth."

"We should add that into the project."

"Really?" Frank's eyebrows lifted.

"It takes two, doesn't it?" Gerard's lips quirked upwards at the corners and brightened the mesmerizing color of his eyes that somehow shifted since the previous time Frank met them. Frank scrambled for the pen, tearing his gaze away to scribble what he mentioned into the page along with Gerard's observations.

"I think I can make something pretty solid out of all of this." Frank thought out loud as he brought the end of the pen against his lips. "I'll start formatting right now." He flipped to another blank page to begin setting up the outline.

"You don't look as though you're meeting your doom like everyone else working on this project." Gerard noted after a silent moment of drinking Frank in.

"I like writing." Frank answered quickly, refraining from lifting his eyes to meet Gerard's stare stapling onto the side of his face, or a violent blush would erupt underneath his skin and give him away.

"Do you do it a lot?" Gerard asked, interested to hear more about Frank's hobby.

"Um . . . not a lot, but a fair amount." Frank felt a bit flustered as Gerard showed interest in his personality. "I mostly don't mind doing stuff like this for class."

"Mostly everyone can't be damned putting in any effort."

"I don't feel that way. It's not too difficult or inconvenient. This is easy compared to the classes I took before."

"Were your classes different?"

Frank tinted pink and prayed he didn't come off as boastful. "Yeah, I guess you can say that. I was — I was in an advanced placement. There was a lot more work and higher expectations."

"Oh?" Gerard's tone colored with surprise. "So you're intelligent."

Frank was slightly put off and offended by the question, slowing his writing to glance to the side. "Did I seem unintelligent before?"

Gerard's eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently, the picture of embarrassment. "God, no, that's not at all what I meant. I meant that as in, you're gifted."

Clarification made Frank's faint trace of offense vanish. "Oh. Uh, I guess. I don't really like being called gifted."

"Is there a reason why?"

Gerard Way, to Frank's surprise, was overflowing with curiosity, and he didn't have a clue where it came from, or why he found Frank interesting enough to ask one after the other. Frank's lips curled slightly and he resumed slowly filling in the rough draft while speaking.

"It sorta makes me feel snobby. I don't hold myself above anyone else just because I'm really good at algebra or writing."

Gerard made a soft sound of acknowledgment. "You don't seem like you think you're superior."

"I'd hope not." Frank curled his fingers tighter around the pen in his hand, willing his cheeks not to maintain a red glow while Gerard's eyes stayed trained on him during an onslaught of questions.

"I've heard through the grapevine that you moved down here from California." Gerard made his observation known.

"The grapevine is right." Frank took a small break to relieve his hand, daring to fleetingly glance around Gerard. His amber and green gaze was impossible to escape once it captured the path of another's stare. Frank felt his heart rattle as the intensity increased once his eyes were ensnared.

"Isn't this . . . a comically drastic change?" Gerard's lips shadowed over with the faintest trace of a smile, his head cocking ever so slightly. A black tress of hair fluttered onto his cheekbone and cradled the porcelain skin like a strip of silk. Frank was nearly gawking before he caught himself.

"I mean — the constant rain and clouds are pretty different, yeah." Frank laughed painfully breathlessly. "I like the sun, makes me happy."

"Then why'd you move to a place that barely has any?" Strangely enough, Gerard appeared perplexed enough by Frank's choice, as if he struggled to figure out the meaning even if it wasn't exactly the most complex thing to figure out.

"I came here to live with my mom. It's been a long time since I've even visited her." Frank explained in a softer tone lowered away from the possible overhearing ears of his classmates. "I've been with my dad this whole time."

Gerard's expression cleared, almost completely blank, but something within his strange eyes kept Frank captivated. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear your parents are split up."

"It's fine. It happens to a lot of people, yeah?" Frank rubbed the side of his neck. "I'd rather they do whatever they need to be happy than be stuck together and miserable."

"Are they happy?" Gerard asked, following the same hushed tone as Frank, but in a far more tranquil note similar to a lullaby. It made Frank feel at ease talking about a personal topic.

"I think so." Frank toyed with his lip ring. "My dad re-married, my mom has a good job and she doesn't look unhappy."

"She must be glad you've returned."

"I would say she is." Frank's smile was small, but enough for Gerard to return it, stunning him further.

"Are you happy?"

The question took Frank slightly aback. His eyes fluttered for a moment, his mind blanking. He settled for the easiest answer instead of answering with the full truth. "I'm not unhappy, I don't think."

"I've seen you a fair amount of times today. I have a feeling the grayness of this place wears you down."

Frank rolled his shoulders back, a bit of his defenses picking up. "I'm doing a good thing being here. I'm giving my dad time with his new wife, and my mom had wanted me to visit for a while."

"That doesn't necessarily mean your happiness comes along with catering to others." Gerard frowned.

Frank's lips turned down along with him. Why was he so interested? "Well . . . I'm still adjusting. That's all."

"Ah." Gerard nodded slowly, looking away.

Then, Frank realized with a pang of something awfully similar to embarrassment that he practically bared a decent portion of his life story to a near stranger. He'd asked for the information to make conversation, but Frank wasn't sure how he shared so effortlessly.

Frank picked up his pen again, a strained half chuckle working up his throat. "I've probably been boring you with my shit. It's not as interesting as it seems. Since I'm the new kid everyone's apparently talking about."

"You're not boring me. I asked because I wanted to know." Gerard hesitated for a beat, his brow arching low over his eyes as he quickly looked over Frank's face. "You're a bit difficult to read."

Frank's lips parted in surprise. "I've always been told I'm practically an open book."

"And I've always been told I'm good at understanding others easily."

For a moment, their eyes connected, lingering for longer than necessary. Color crept up the sides of Frank's neck as he was doused in the strange floral magma running through Gerard's soul, the only way he could explain the most unorthodox tango he read from him. It felt like Gerard tried to reach into him the same, but to no avail, causing Frank's heartbeat to spike.

Drawn in by burning hazel green eyes glowing brighter than any other pair, Frank unintelligently blurted out, "Did you buy colored contacts?"

Gerard bristled at the question. He turned his head in the other direction, shifting in his seat, and Frank immediately stammered out an apology.

"Yikes, sorry. I don't know why I asked, it's probably none of my business." Frank's face burned hotter than the California sunlight. "I'm not judging you if you did, it's a . . . nice color, I don't know, I just remembered them being. Darker."

Talk about digging yourself further into a hole. Frank considered for a hot second which coffin was more flattering for a deathly complexion so he could choose one to be buried in.

"No, I didn't." Gerard murmured and pressed his lips together. "My eyes turn darker when I don't feel well."

Frank felt guilty that Gerard needed to explain himself, so he opted not to say anything else on the matter, and instead threw himself back into the formation of the essay's draft to cover up the new awkward silence brewing between them, including Gerard's sudden mood shift. He prayed he didn't offend Gerard by being too observant, but to be fair, Gerard was catapulting plenty of personal questions in his direction. But he did hold himself accountable in case he embarrassed Gerard if he didn't take offense to his question. Frank didn't entirely buy the reason behind the change in color.

Silence continued on with the occasional break as Frank asked questions quietly answered by his project partner, to which he took into consideration while completing the first paragraphs of the rough draft. He didn't put too much ardor into it since a rough draft meant there was room for improvement later on when Frank would transfer the writing onto a digital document.

"Frank," Gerard's soothing voice broke his focus, "you mentioned you have a step mother now?"

Frank's eyebrows shot up at the random question. He tongued his lip ring from the inside of his mouth, raising his head. "Yeah?"

"Do you like her?" Gerard continued rolling smoothly as if there was no break or shift between questions.

Frank slowed his writing and eventually came to a complete halt. "She's nice. She tries a little too hard to get me to like her sometimes, I think. But she's good for my dad."

"Does she try being motherly?"

"Yeah, mostly." Frank rolled his pen between his fingers.

"Hmm." Gerard hummed, and pressed his lips together in a pensive state of mind.

"How about you?" Frank felt strange being under the spotlight without attempting to learn about Gerard. "What's your life like?"

Gerard's mouth shrunk, his eyes averting Frank's gaze suddenly. He faced the direction of the front of the classroom, all curiosity gone. "It's not very interesting."

Frank, slightly stunned by his reaction, wasn't sure how to respond for a small moment. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought, since you asked about me . . ." He trailed off.

"It's okay. I'm a bit private about family matters."

"Oh." Frank nodded. "I get that."

Conversation fell away again, that time for the rest of the period unless Frank needed to pass down an inquiry for the essay, but doing so lead him to collecting a massive pile of nerves each time after Gerard shut down after being asked about his family. From a distance, their bunch appeared normal, but Frank had an inkling there was more to it if Gerard grew uncomfortable after being asked about it, even if Frank didn't intend to cause any harm. He decided to keep to himself to avoid running into any topics that might've set Gerard off unpleasantly, but his mind was a confused tangle of questions after noticing the way Gerard's moods flickered back and forth in a short matter of time. It wasn't Frank's business, but he couldn't help but wonder.

When the class period rolled to an end, Frank was stunned to see Gerard quickly gather his things and rush out of the classroom without a single word or glance behind. Frank stayed seated with his bag clutched in his hands and couldn't help but feel guilty, but after putting more thought into it after wandering out of the classroom in a bit of a daze, he realized he hadn't exactly done anything wrong. Previous irritation he thought he was done with flared anew in sharp tingles at the center of his spine and washed towards his insides until he was scowling and storming off to his next class. Frank's patience ran thin only because of the insecurity Gerard laid within him that he so could've lived without. No person was worth scrambling over his words and choosing them carefully for, knowing he hadn't done a thing wrong unless being polite was against Gerard's way of thinking. Frank wasn't sure what his deal was, but if Gerard would rather act so abrasively towards basic human kindness despite practically interrogating Frank the entire class period, Frank would turn his cheek and keep things civil if he was forced to be seated beside him for the remainder of the semester.

In gym, Frank opted against standing in the sidelines in dodgeball and scored a few blows to the opposing team that pelted him with rubber balls previously. He kept his irritation at bay so he didn't cause any harm, but the activity caused him to break a sweat, something he dearly needed whenever he was upset. After he felt it melted away along with the rest of his energy, Frank quickly changed back into his ordinary clothes after freshening up and escaped the locker room upon the ringing of the dismissal bell. Thunder rumbled beneath the pregnant clouds of gloom banding together in the sky and stretching out far past the horizon visible to Frank in the parking lot. He hiked the hoodie to his jacket over his head and cautiously moved down the slick sidewalk towards his car. Along the way, Frances called out to him from behind, and he spun around curiously to see where her voice came from.

Frances walked past the iron gate and made her way towards Frank without any of their friends at her side. Her long braid stuck out underneath her hood and she pressed a purple binder adorned in band stickers against her chest. Frank paused where he stood and waved, sticking his hands in his pockets soon after when the chilly bite of the air nipped at his knuckles.

"Hey Frank, I'm glad I caught ya." Frances bounced to a halt and tapped her fingers along the spine of the school binder in her hands.

"What's up?" Frank asked with a nod, rolling his lips into his mouth.

"I was wondering if you wanted to meet up with me and Adam at the Street 14 Café. We're about to head out right now."

Frank hesitated, the heel of his shoe digging into a crack along the pavement. "I hate to sound like a goody two shoes, but I'd have to ask my mom."

Frances's lips split into an amused grin and her eyes crinkled. "It's no biggie, you can just text me and let me know what she says. Actually— did I ever give you my number?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so." Frank's cheeks stained red, worrying over how he must've looked to not attempt to keep in touch with his friends outside of school.

"It's fine, you don't have to feel guilty." Frances chuckled and opened her binder to a blank page, pulling a pen from one of the folds.

As Frances scribbled her number onto the paper, Frank's eyes lifted fleetingly once something entered his peripherals, only to linger on the passing figure. His lips parted as if to mention something as Gerard Way passed him by, their gazes sliding across each other, but Frank was only met with obvious deflection. Gerard continued on without another regarding glance as if he hadn't tried to crawl underneath Frank's skin to dissect his past to his liking. Frank was still with shock even when Frances tore out the paper containing her number scrawled between one of the blue lines.

"Are you okay?" Frances asked upon taking notice of Frank's disbelief.

Frank shook away the rigidness pooling between his joints and blinked twice. He cleared his throat, trying not to allow his indignation show even as it simmered under every layer of skin on his body.

"Yeah, sorry, I just — I thought I forgot something important in the locker room, but I remembered I put it in my bag." Frank sighed a little harsher than necessary and cooled it by weakly smiling. He took the page being handed to him and glanced at Frances's number underneath her curly signature followed by a dash and a message politely requesting him to keep in touch. "Thanks. I'll let you know it's me when I text you."

"I hope you'll be able to come." Frances quirked her lips in a benevolent smile and they went on their separate paths after the exchange.

Frank slammed the car door after he settled into the driver's seat, full of agitation balancing on the edge promising unbridled anger. It was impossible for every person to like Frank, but the obviousness of Gerard's sudden dislike for him churned in his stomach. It shouldn't have mattered, underneath the surface it wouldn't in a surplus of days, but currently, Frank thought he held every right to be offended. Gerard asked questions and obviously wasn't afraid to show he didn't like any of the answers. Frank's sigh was rough as he shoved the keys into the ignition and the truck's elderly engine gave a trembling wheeze as it started. He impatiently waited for the truck's initial quaking to pass so he could pull out of the school's parking lot, the last place he wanted to be. He tied of ribbon of hope around his heart that he'd be permitted to join his friends at the caféafter the obligatory check in with Linda, knowing a good distraction was well overdue.

Frank gunned the engine, passing Gerard's obnoxiously materialistic car and hoping the puddle he glided across sprayed violently all over the polished silver paint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know how much I love feedback. I hope you enjoyed this!


	5. Treachery

The imminent death Frank braced himself for was treacherously encased in ice outside.

In other words, Frank wasn't sure how to walk down the path and into the driveway to get inside his truckwithout slipping to his death when the concrete was nearly entirely crystallized with ice. After a heavy rainfall lasting a majority of the night, the low temperature caused the water to freeze over the ground, even going as far as to frost the greenery surrounding the neighborhood, icicles looming threateningly above where they trickled down from the roof's edges in temporary stillness. Frank would rather there be snow than ice causing him to become overwrought with anxiety. His heart thumped wildly imagining the deathly consequences of driving against the black ice patching the roads, completely inescapable. He stared out the window in distress minutes before it was time for him to drive off to the classes his mother insisted he attended, guaranteeing the safety of the snow chains laced across the sturdy tires made for frigid conditions.

"What if I die?" Frank worried the strap of the backpack slung across his shoulder by picking at a thread coming undone on the inseam.

"You're not going to die." Linda clicked her tongue. "Don't be dramatic. I've driven during these conditions lots of times."

"You've been driving longer than I have."

"Just go slow and be careful while making turns." Linda carried on insisting Frank wouldn't lock eyes with the Reaper, halfway shoving him in the direction of the door.

"It's not just driving on the roads, what if I fall and crack my head open?" Frank's hands flailed in the direction of the ice glazed ground.

"Then walk slowly. You're going to be late to class, Frank." Linda's slight sternness urged Frank to shed his insecurities about the weather conditions or else she'd be very displeased.

Avoiding all levels of dissatisfaction, Frank heaved a deep breath as he pried the door open, his hand lingering on the knob for a moment. He'd fallen in worse conditions, such as the time he skidded across the road on a skateboard for the first time and hit a pothole, sending himself flying onto the unforgiving roughness of the floor heavily scraping his palms and knees taking the burden of the landing. There was still a jagged scar on his right knee from the incident, protruding ever so slightly from the rest of his skin, and Frank found himself absentmindedly stroking along the shiny battle scar whenever he zoned out. Frank warily examined the ground while stepping outside and immediately grabbed for any supporting railings, hearing his mother make a sound of amused exasperation behind him. He shot a indignant look over his shoulder while making his way towards the driveway path.

Halfway down the cement without slipping so much, Frank's predictions proved to be triumphant. In a lapse of judgement, Frank thought it would be smarter to take large steps to avoid stepping along the ice for longer than necessary. He vowed to never trust his theories over instinct again as his foot skidded across a sheet of ice camouflaged by the light shade of the driveway and sent him falling onto his ass on the floor in a pile of flailing limbs. Frank yelled at the impact, immediately grabbing at the tire of his truck resting nearby, and hysterical laughter ripped through him as a coping mechanism for the soreness flaring all the way up his spine.

"Are you okay?" Linda called out from the front door in deep concern after witnessing Frank fall.

Frank's head whipped around and he noticed Linda was clumsily starting to make her way out the door, but Frank shouted at her to stop with a hand in the air.

"It's fine, I'm fine!" Frank stuttered over his words. "I don't want you to fall, too."

"But you need help getting up!"

"It's okay. I can pull myself up." Frank groaned and clutched onto whatever was in reach to haul himself off the ground, gasping whenever his feet slipped, but he managed to fully stand upright. He twisted around to glance at his jeans, wiping off fragments of ice lingering on the back, and he frowned deeply at the developing soreness settling insistently under his skin. He wondered if he'd landed hard enough to bruise; his skin was rather delicate in the infuriating way where he appeared more fragile than the actuality of what he could tolerate.

"Be careful, Frank, please. If you hurt yourself, call me immediately."

"I think the smart thing would be to call an ambulance." Frank grumbled. Although he hated to draw much attention to himself, if any bones were to shatter, he found it more ideal to dial an ambulance rather than his mother.

Waving goodbye to Linda, Frank carefully maneuvered into his truck, the door heavily slamming shut in his wake. Cranking the heater on at full force, Frank took a moment to allow the truck's engine to warm before cautiously pulling out of the driveway. On the way to school, Frank carefully trekked along the roads with his hands clutched tight around the steering wheel. His gloved fingers and the assistance of the heater managed to keep him from shivering at the weather, but he knew the moment he stepped outdoors again, the cold would instantly soak through his clothe. His body wasn't used any temperature that wasn't dry and typically warm, causing him to nearly freeze solid sat weather under sixty degrees. Frank's tongue fiddled with and tugged at his lip ring while maneuvering his truck towards the school, breathing a sigh of heavy relief when he was near enough to begin turning into the parking lot. The other scattering of cars entering the lot carefully slid across the ground to avoid slipping against the random sheets of black ice crystallizing the blacktop. Frank anxiously kept his eyes stapled to the road, easing into an open parking space.

Frank twisted the keys out of the ignition once he was successfully parked. He puckered his lips glancing out the window, pocketing the keys. He retrieved his phone to text his mother that he arrived safely for her sake. Frank retrieved his bag from the back of the cab nd pried the door open to step out into the morning awaiting outside. He inhaled the thick scent of rain saturating the pine and spruce trees standing tall in the borders of the school premises. His exhale materialized before him in a vapor cloud he batted away, but each time air filtered through his nostrils, he resembled a fire breathing dragon preparing to throw a streamer of murderous flames. Frank checked the snow chains secured around the tires, dusting at the cracked ice between the plaits. Frank slung his bag over his shoulder and began walking, noticing it felt lighter than normal. At the realization, he stilled at the further end of his truck sticking out from the row of cars he settled between. His brows puckered and he shrugged the bag off and into his awaiting hands.

Digging through his items, Frank's insides sparked with shock to realize he'd forgotten to ask for an important notes binder for one of his classes back after lending it to Frances at the cafè the previous day. It slipped both of their minds, apparently, and Frank vaguely recalled Frances mentioning she wouldn't be present at school that day to attend an anti-police violence protest out of town. Frank swore under his breath, slapping a hand against his forehead. The binder was filled with vital notes he took to aid him on his History test that afternoon, notes Frances quickly glanced over to copy down onto her own notebook for the make-up test she was bound to take when she returned. Frank shook his head, knowing it wasn't entirely anyone's fault, and began to zip his bag shut.

A peculiar feeling washed over him in the process. Frank paused, lifting his eyes and glancing around. From across the parking lot, his gaze met Gerard Way's practically piercing into him from the distance. Again, with faint frustration scribbled into Gerard's pale features, and a livened curiosity the moment Frank met his eyes. Frank shivered, uncertain if it was due to the cold or the relentless intensity taking permanent residence in Gerard's eyes. Frank felt the collision of glaciers inside him once again and he tore his eyes away the instant it took ahold of him. What was Gerard Way staring at him for? Was he contemplating another string of personal questions or orchestrating Frank's murder?There was never a crossroads between them, it had to be either or, based on the observations Frank made. Huffing, Frank glanced up again, finding Gerard was looking away that time, but with his head tilted in the same direction as before. Frank fixed his jaw and yanked his backpack entirely shut. The aggressiveness of the motion must have been notable; Gerard glanced Frank's way again, revealing nothing in his expression, but Frank couldn't avoid the mystifyingly unorthodox aura reaching to where Frank was planted, the strongest of all energies he had ever sensed. It was nearly impossible to make full sense of, all of the rivers of ice cascading into the anguished waterfalls hidden deepest in the shadows.

A sudden high pitched shrieking noise startled Frank sharply out of his fleeting fixation. The sound of it made him flinch, but the source was unknown to him. Frank looked around with large eyes, finding other students doing the same, turning their heads in search of the location. Suddenly, it grew much louder, nearer. Alarmed cries began rising out of students in the direction Frank's back was turned to. Automatically, Frank turned, fright cooling his blood like the ice dripping from the spruce tree branches. His eyes wheeled around and finally made sense of a vehicle, a sturdy van, sliding wildly across the perilous ground. The tires couldn't find a steady grip on the blacktop, causing the van to lose control, but what caused Frank's entire body to seize up into an immobile statue of horror was the realization that the screeching van jaggedly cutting through the parking lot at an alarming speed was headed towards him.

The options were unfairly limited. If Frank threw himself to the left, no movement was quick enough, and the van would crush him against the outer corner of the truck, undoubtedly killing or critically injuring him. If he cowered between the truck and the car beside him, the van would collide with the car, and sending it barreling into him, also crushing him. Either way, his bones would shatter, or something would tear and rupture, a chain of undeserving injuries. The impending doom was so severe that, for the second Frank's heart stilled, all he could think about was his home in California, his father, and his mother who likely wouldn't forgive herself for pushing him to leave to school in icy weather.

Frank couldn't move, each of his limbs solidified. His eyes open as wide as possible skated around so quickly, locking with the eyes of a horrified Gerard Way across the lot. Then, Frank shot one final glance at the van, flinching his eyes shut to brace for the imminent killing impact.

Except, no killing impact arrived. Frank felt something solid shielding his entire body, sending him flying towards the ground. The back of his head thumped on the blacktop in a mildly sharp pain shooting through his skull, and he was sliding across the solid floor, wrapped up in the armor materializing out of nowhere. The sound of metal clashing together and shattering glass deafened Frank, his ears ringing from both the throb in his head and the noise. Another screeching sound and a heavy crash thundered beyond his senses being frazzled by the rapid series of events moving too quickly to comprehend. Darkness lived behind Frank's tightly shut lids trembling from the effort. The van groaned hoarsely, the engine sizzling, and the noises finally came to a halt. Frank's body violently trembled, frantically bouncing over questions; what just happened? Why wasn't he dead? How did he manage to escape the impact without more pain than the dull ache residing at the back of his skull? It was impossible.

Voices swirled around him. Frank dizzily swam through them until one became clear, an unexpected harmony shaping around his name. Frank's inhale was broken and shaky, and he slowly pried his eyes open. They met Gerard's large and petrified stare boring into him. The more Frank's sluggish brain process his surroundings, he came to realize the solid armor shaping around him was the circle of Gerard's arms holding him protectively against his body in an iron grip. Frank breathed raggedly, slowly turning his head. The van careening towards Frank collided with the corner of his truck and the back of the other vehicle beside him, bruised and surrounded by broken glass shards that rained onto the ground. There was a deep indentation in the side of the van— more like a crater, in the shape of two solid hands pounding against the door to stop it.

" _What?_ " Frank's shrill voice sounded too fragile and breathy for it to be his. He was limp in Gerard's arms— Gerard's arms? Impossible.

"Frank? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Gerard's hurriedly concerned words took a moment to sink in.

Frank's eyes snapped up. He stared at Gerard hard, ignoring the ache in his head, the pounding of his heartbeat noisily pulsing through him. "How did you— how did you get here so fast?"

Gerard's unnaturally bright eyes flashed. He shook his head quickly, looking around when they were being surrounded by shouting students running towards the scene. "I was walking towards you right before this happened."

"You were over there." Frank jabbed a finger in the opposite direction. "I saw you."

"You turned away before you saw me coming over."

"No!" Frank snapped.

Gerard's face screwed up in frustration, then it melted into one of deep concern. "You hit your head. Are you okay? Please be careful."

Frank focused on the blow he took to the back of his head. It throbbed, and he hissed, cupping it gingerly. He brought his hand in front of his face and breathed out in relief to find no blood stained his fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment and quick shuddering noise broke through the air.

"I'm— I'm fine. You did this." Frank opened his eyes and meant to stare at the indentation in the van— only, it was no longer there. His jaw unhinged. It was there only a second ago.

Gerard said nothing. Instead, he carefully swept Frank up in his arms, barely wincing at the weight, and began carrying him around the tangle of cars. Frank's eyes flew open, protesting, until the sound of the frightened students flocking the parking lot overpowered the sound of him.

He raised his voice. "Put me down, my legs are fine!"

"You might lose your balance." Gerard dismissed.

"I don't have brain damage, for fuck's sake, and I'm not a girl." Frank growled, cheeks flushing with humiliation.

Gerard's eyes flashed again and he stiffened. To Frank's surprise, he wordlessly set Frank onto his feet beside the unscathed side of his truck, and stepped back. Frank stared at him, clutching the lip of the truck bed. Gerard refused to meet his stare.

Before Frank could demand what happened, he was circled by classmates informing him an ambulance was on its way, asking if he was okay, thanking god he was alive and unharmed for the most part. The owner of the van, a gangly boy named Justin, broke through the crowd in worse condition, babbling hysterical apologies. Some of the attention was redirected to him, reliving Frank partially, and he tried to let Justin know the accident wasn't his fault.

Adam and Ray burst through the crowd looking paler and more serious than Frank had ever seen them. Ray gently grabbed Frank's arm when he took a step and almost slipped on the ice, and Adam's eyes bulged out. Frank was immediately overwhelmed and lightheaded from the surge of anxiety and a sense of danger hitting him where it rolled off of everyone else. He pretended it was a matter of his head, cupping the back of his skull.

"What the fuck, Frank? How are you alive?" Adam gaped.

"I . . . I don't know." Frank whispered. He couldn't explain to them what occurred when he wasn't so certain he read it correctly himself, and not where others could hear him. He glanced over his shoulder at Gerard who stood at a careful distance, as stony as ever. His stomach turned and for a moment, some of the shock erupted and raked over him in a nauseating current.

"Some people are saying Gerard pulled you out of the way?" Ray asked. He was guarded, but very concerned, asking in a hushed voice.

Frank didn't answer. He shut his eyes in an attempt to push away the intense vibrations of emotion plundering him and the upset churning of his stomach, groaning softly. His friends kept awkward hands on him so he wouldn't topple over. Frank turned away and leaned against the side of his truck, bending to press his forehead against the icy exterior. Ray reassured him the ambulance was approaching as quickly as possible, but it didn't alleviate Frank. The tension wouldn't fade because it wasn't all his own, at least, temporarily. He was fully certain he spiraled into shock.

Frank kept his eyes shut when he was analyzed and carried away by the paramedics, laid out on a stretcher with something supporting his head after they were informed of the little impact he took. His eyes snapped open when Gerard climbed into the vehicle.

"Seriously? Are you playing superhero?" Frank mumbled accusingly.

"For one, I'm more like an unconventional savior, and second, they asked me to come." Gerard said patiently as the doors shut and he was seated beside the stretcher.

"People at school are gonna act like you're a God for . . . whatever you did back there." Frank's mouth went dry and he forced himself to look up at the ceiling of the ambulance.

Gerard laughed mirthlessly. "The likeliness of that is extremely slight, Frank."

Frank ignored the way his voice danced around his name. He closed his eyes again and willed himself to focus on the swaying motions of the truck making its way to the hospital. Gerard remained silent, and Frank preferred the quiet, but it made room for his thoughts to intrude now that some of the shock subsided. He revisited the events that were mostly painted in black when he kept his eyes shut, but he easily recalled the sounds, the solid body yanking him out of the way, and the deep indentation in the side of the van that somehow managed to come to a crashing halt before it could crush anyone. Frank didn't think it was possible for anyone to halt a van moving so speedily that there was barely time for Frank to react the way he did. According to what he remembered, his eyes locked with Gerard a second before he shut his eyes in preparation for either death or searing pain taking ahold of his body. Gerard claimed to be making his way towards Frank in that moment, but Frank's memory begged to differ.

Frank's eyes slowly pried open. He turned his head slightly, going to discreetly glance at Gerard, to find Gerard's eyes were resting on his face. Frank's lips parted and he was ensnared in the intensity of Gerard's heavy gaze. He felt it again; anguish. Crippling enough to make Frank's throat swell and his tear ducts tighten. Gerard gave away his level of concern torn between an internal conflict Frank couldn't pinpoint. He wasn't capable of reading minds, only emotions, and even that was to an extent. Frank's breathing hitched and Gerard looked away quickly to stare at the ground instead.

The ambulance arrived at the hospital in a flash. Frank was rushed in to be seen by the doctor as quickly as possible. He sat in a room filled with beds separated by privacy curtains, but it did nothing to conceal the constant apologies coming from Frank's neighbor who happened to be the driver of the vehicle causing the collision. Frank tried to insist everything was forgiven, but Justin kept babbling apologies. Frank rolled his eyes and rubbed at his temples with his back turned to him, tuning out the excessive apologies.

Gerard entered the open space Frank reserved after searching for his mother with a preference for her assisting Frank, knowing she was one of the most professional and skilled doctors in the medical field.

"She'll be seeing you in a few minutes." Gerard announced.

"I don't need a highly refined doctor for something that could be nothing." Frank gently pressed the tenderness at the back of his head, barely wincing.

"Internal and external are two separate things. You could be concussed." Gerard rose an eyebrow.

"Do I look concussed?" Frank challenged. He met Gerard's eyes and didn't falter keeping his stare intact.

Gerard's mouth tightened. He sank down on the plastic seat beside Frank's bed. "That's for the doctor to find out."

Frank sighed. He swung the leg folded under him down and let both dangle, frowning when his feet didn't quite touch the ground. The lack of extra height made it nearly impossible. "I'm definitely not going back to school after this."

"Why not?"

"I don't want everyone hovering around me pretending they care. I'll take concern from my friends, that's it." Frank scowled in dismay imagining becoming the popular topic again, word spreading all across town. He felt slightly dehumanized by it.

"Wouldn't you be concerned if your classmate was nearly ground into dust?" Gerard cocked his head slightly to the side.

Frank stared and his eyes narrowed. "I'd be more focused on their savior that materialized out of nowhere. And stopped a van from crushing them."

Gerard's posture went rigid. He clenched his jaw and Frank mirrored the pose, irked by Gerard's attempt to plant another story in Frank's head as if he was a fool with no original thoughts.

"I told you what happened, Frank." Gerard whispered so no eavesdroppers could listen.

Frank leaned in and lowered his voice just the same, not missing Gerard's hands curling into tight fists at his sides. "Don't take me for an idiot. I know exactly what I saw."

"You hit your head on the hard floor. You must've seen things wrong." Gerard's burning eyes pulsed like they were alive.

"There was a massive crater in the fucking van. Did you manhandle it to get it back into shape?" Frank hissed.

"There was nothing there. I sprinted and shoved you out of the way, that's all that happened." Gerard leaned back far in his chair, his nostrils flaring.

Frank leaned back as well. He glared at Gerard while puzzling over the encounter in his mind, seeing fragments scramble together and create a muddy picture Gerard sought to rearrange in his way. Frank knew there was a crater, it burned into his memory like the kiss of a branding iron, but there was no evidence of it ever existing. That was the only factor forcing Frank to waver.

"I don't appreciate you thinking you can fool me like I'm a brainless imbecile." Frank folded his arms across his chest. "I want the truth."

"I've given you the truth. I don't think you're an imbecile. This is reality, Frank, not a television show." Gerard's refusal spiked fresh infuriation through Frank again.

"I'm not pretending it is!"

"Trust me on this, okay?" Gerard's beguiling eyes nearly seared Frank with their beseeching glimmer. Frank found it hard to concentrate while looking into them.

Before Frank was given the chance to speak again, in the background, he heard the familiar voice of his mother hurriedly asking a staff member where Frank was. His eyes widened and he turned around, seeing Linda speed walk through the open double doors, the epitome of restless worry. Her appearance made Frank's anger melt away for the most part, despite the lingering irritation at the back of his mind. From the corner of his eye, Frank saw Gerard rise from his seat, and he watched in surprise as Gerard swiftly exited the room, disappearing down the hall without glancing back.

"Frank! Are you okay? I came as soon as I got the call." Linda bustled in and flailed her hands like she wanted to touch Frank, but she refrained, helplessly looking him over.

"I'm alive." Frank sighed. "I just hit my head. There was no blood."

"I'm so relieved." Linda pulled Frank into a tight hug. Stunned, he didn't respond until a few seconds later, patting his mother's back and flushing at the eyes in the room that glanced at them when they passed by.

"You'd know if I'd been crushed like a soda can." Frank smiled halfheartedly when they pulled away.

"Don't make jokes like that." Linda frowned. "You could've been seriously hurt, Frank."

Or killed, Frank thought ruefully, envisioning the disaster coming out with a worse outcome taking a toll on his mother who seemed horrified enough. The pinch in his chest chastised him for being ever so mildly irritated over the amount of concern.

"Well, I wasn't. I just hit my head a little hard." Frank halfheartedly waved around his head.

"Where is that doctor?" Linda impatiently looked around the room.

"Gerard said the doctor would be in shortly." Frank struggled not to let his tone go dry when mentioning the frustratingly enigmatic savior of his.

"Gerard? Do you mean Dr. Way's son?" Linda's eyes were wide.

Frank hesitated, sighing softly. "Yes. He pushed me out of the way."

"Is he alright?" Linda asked shrilly.

Frank winced, but covered it up by rubbing his nose harshly. "He's perfectly fine." Not a single scrape, no evidence that he stopped the vehicle from obliterating Frank other than his presence in the end.

"Actually," Frank began to mention before Linda launched into an interrogation, "The kid who was driving is in worse condition. They took him somewhere else for x-rays."

"The damn ice . . . school shouldn't be in session in these conditions." Linda crossed arms over her chest, her brows puckered with two lines creasing between them. "I'm so sorry I made you go, Frank, I didn't think it would be this bad."

"Don't kick yourself for it, mom. I'm fine."

"You were almost _not_ fine."

Frank's intentions to response were stolen away by the arrival of the doctor making her presence known as she walked towards him and his mother. Frank's eyes darted over to Gerard who followed in her stride, his face revealing nothing more than a smoothed over look of calm composure. Frank focused on the doctor beaming as she closed in with her hands clasped together.

"Frank Iero. The son of one of my favorite nurses!" Dr. Way cheerfully greeted.

Frank struggled not to let his mouth fall open in her presence. Dr. Way, as Frank should've suspected, was just as exquisite as her adoptive and biological children. Her mane of wavy golden hair framed her pale face, her hazel green eyes framed in thick eyelashes as deep as the ocean, but filled with genuine warmth. Her lips were thinner, but delicate, and she stood tall for a woman with such a fragile appearance. Her held herself with certainty and her eyes didn't wrinkle at the corners when she grinned as Frank imagined they would; he couldn't locate a single flaw in her appearance.

"Donna, I'm surprised you weren't busy." Linda sounded as surprised as she mentioned, but not unbothered by Dr. Way, or Donna's, appearance.

"It's fine, I'm just checking to see if Frank is good to go home." Donna redirected her attention to Frank who still stared in awe. He quickly flushed and darted his eyes to a poster in the distance beside her head when he was caught looking.

"I feel fine. I'm probably just wasting your time." Frank wrung his hands.

"Nonsense. Gerard told me you knocked your head on the ground." Donna glanced over the paperwork attached to the clipboard she carried in with her. "Everything else seems to be fine. I just need to check to be safe."

Frank sighed through his nose, shooting Gerard a dark look. Gerard feigned aloofness, but the corner of his lips lifted the slightest bit.

"Let's see if you're not concussed." Donna set down the paperwork and tucked a small light from the pocket of her medical coat to check Frank's pupils.

As she examined him, Gerard's presence was impossible to ignore, and it seemed to intimidate even Frank's mother standing close by to be assured Frank was unharmed. She shifted her weight frequently and glanced over at Gerard a few times, burning internally with unspoken questions. Frank also seared within by biting back his own inquiries, but those were reserved for another time when no other pairs of ears could listen in on the exchange.

"You're doing just fine. I'm a little worried about the tenderness here, but an x-ray can let me know what's going on." Donna gently pressed at the area of the back of Frank's hair she fretted over. He winced slightly, a dull throb radiating through the spot.

"Do you think he might've hurt his skull?" Linda asked, overwrought with worry.

"Most likely not, but it's better to be safe than sorry. After we take a closer look, you're good to go home, Frank." Donna warmly smiled. Frank peered into her eyes for a short moment long enough to sense the compassionate way about her, a tender and almost motherly warmth exuding from the inside. Frank smiled back subtly, soothed by her essence.

"Thanks." Frank mumbled. "Thank god Gerard was standing there with me. It would've been much worse if he hadn't pushed me out of the way."

Gerard stiffened, and Donna's smile turned slightly robotic. Frank's eyes flickered between them both curiously.

"Yes, you're very lucky. I'll send over the orders immediately. The waiting room for the x-rays is all the way down the hall, take a left and go through the second door on the right." Donna nodded at both Frank and Linda, gathering her items to leave as Frank continued to stare. It was odd how quickly she dismissed Gerard's participation. Wouldn't she, as a mother, feel proud of her son for saving someone's life?

"Thank you, Donna. I'll see you later." Linda adjusted the strap of her purse resting on her shoulder.

"Take care." Donna briskly exited the room, and Frank expected Gerard to follow, but he lingered, his cool composure never cracking.

"Let's go wait, Frank." Linda started towards the door.

Frank hesitated when he stood, locking eyes with Gerard. "Actually, mom, I think I'm gonna talk to Gerard for a second first."

Surprised by this, Linda looked between both of them curiously, something sparking in her eyes that Frank wished he could shut down immediately. He forced a half smile, waving as she nodded and exited the room. When she vanished around the corner, Frank took it upon himself to escort Gerard to a more private portion of the building, between a vending machine in a vacant hallway and a corner where the sounds of their voices would be muffled.

"If this is about what we were talking about earlier, I think that conversation has come to a close, don't you think?" Gerard passiveness took Frank aback.

Frank's eyebrows arched down and pushed towards each other. "Not if you're the only one who thinks so."

Gerard's mouth twitched. "You should, too."

Frank took a deep breath to calm himself. "I covered for you back there. I lied to your _mother_."

"You weren't lying."

"I'm not concussed. Or delusional. You heard it straight from the doctor. You weren't standing next to me, Gerard."

"Shock and your fight or flight instincts can cause confusion."

"Can you just — stop?" Frank hissed.

"Stop what?" Gerard's flawless eyebrows lifted.

"Stop acting like I made everything up in my head. Even if you didn't stop the van with your hands, you got to me impossibly fast." Frank's words almost slurred together from how quickly he spewed them out, indignation controlling the movements of his vocal chords and the sharpness of his tongue behind his teeth.

"Of course I did. I needed to act quickly."

"No one moves that fast. You were there in a matter of seconds."

Gerard's eyes narrowed into an expression stunning Frank. "Any ordinary person would thank me and be grateful that they weren't smeared across the road."

Frank stumbled over his own words. He defied Gerard's sharp gaze by glaring back with intensity of his own, watching Gerard's brow arch up higher than the other in faint surprise. "Well, thank you. Do you want a medal?"

Gerard huffed, his eyes flashing. "That wasn't a demand for your gratitude. I don't understand why you can't let this go."

"I'm not going to. Not until you tell me how you were across the lot one second and pushing me away the next." Frank willed himself to keep his glare steady with Gerard's despite his heart accelerating at the bleakness in Gerard's heavy gaze tethered to the sound of violence and ice emitting from his very soul. Frank stood as if he was as much of a threat, a physical warning.

"You're being ridiculous." Gerard clenched his jaw tight. He looked away, avoiding Frank's piercing eyes at all costs. Frank couldn't help but feel a flash of triumph, but following that was rage shocking through his system.

Frank took a deep breath to calm himself. "Look. You can tell me the truth. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."

"There's nothing more to tell you." Gerard sighed in exasperation.

"I don't believe that."

"Believe it or not, I have nothing left to say to you. Let it go."

"You know what? Fuck you." Frank spat. "I don't know why you went through the trouble if you can't stand me. If anything happens again, don't even bother."

Frank couldn't linger on the shock sprouting on Gerard's face before he was turning on his heels and stomping down the hallway. He feared that if he continued on with the heated exchanged, he'd wind up doing something he would later regret, such as curling his hand into a tight fist and ramming it into Gerard's eerily flawless face. Good looks were only skin deep, Frank was suddenly reminded of a saying he heard before, and vehemently agreed with the statement after experiencing it firsthand. He figured Gerard was the epitome of the saying. A face of Adonis didn't guarantee a heart embroidered with silver, framed by marigolds and gardenias. Gerard might have taken Frank for a fool, but he was sure to prove he was no such thing, and by that, he wouldn't stay behind to coax answers out of him. Frank knew when he wasn't wanted, so he'd save Gerard the grief and the intolerance by keeping away. Frank wouldn't give into the false allure or the temptation of his own anger spilling anew through him each time Gerard acted unjustly. Frank still wasn't sure of the reason why Gerard handled his presence the way he did, why he seemed to dislike Frank while nonetheless intruding in his life, but Frank wouldn't uncover the mystery, mostly for his own sake at that point.

Frank stormed into the waiting room, fighting to wipe the scowl off his face when he found his mother sitting in one of the plastic blue chairs, engrossed in a recent issue of Entertainment Weekly from the pile of magazines on the side table. He steadied his breathing, shoving his hands in his pockets. He sank down on the creaky chair beside his mother and sighed.

"What did you two talk about?" Linda asked without peeling her eyes away from the pages.

"I just . . . thanked him for sort of saving me." Frank clicked his teeth together at the end.

"You don't seem very happy." Linda glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

Frank wasn't as inconspicuous as he hoped. He tilted his head back and stared at the television screen in the corner of the room playing an episode of Property Brothers at a low volume.

"I don't think he likes me very much." Frank mumbled.

Linda fully turned her head, baffled. "Why would you think that? You said he saved you."

"Maybe he doesn't want me dead, but he doesn't seem too excited when I'm around." Frank crossed his arms and slouched back in the seat. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

Linda dropped the subject, not being one to pry. Frank was thankful for the temporary silence until he was called in for his x-ray. He hoped they wouldn't reveal if his brain swelled to the point of near explosion with aggravating thoughts involving Gerard Way.

—

Graciously, Frank was allowed to stay at home under a swaddle of blankets shielding him from the cold outdoors. He took advantage of the extra hours to nestle underneath them and fall into a deep sleep where he discovered swirling colors and sunshine accompanied his body in dire need of defrosting. He imagined he felt the heat of California washing over his face as he rode through the desert in a familiar car with work leather seats, the windows down as the smell of dust and purified air swirled underneath his nose. He felt the wind whipping through his hair, tousling all of the locks in a disarray he could care less about during the sweetness of his reunion with the summer sky barren of any rumbling clouds knitting together while deviously plotting a drenching storm. His skin was lathered in sunlight all the way to the bone.

The illusion was so sweet that heavy disappointment blanketed over Frank when his eyes slowly wrenched open hours later and the sound of rain pelting the roof slammed him back into dreary reality. He sighed, rubbing his open palm across his face only somewhat warmed from pressing deep into the blankets. He rolled over and ached for the sunshine, the smell of sea water lapping against blazing sand, the Joshua trees proudly planted in the desert sands he passed through on road trips with the windows rolled all the way down. Frank missed ridiculous fragments of California like the smell of car exhaust and fruit trees from the more rundown communities in Orange County. Frank never imagined he would crave the scent of pollution, and his nose wrinkled, wondering if that was only due to the haze of grogginess lifting sluggishly from his mind. He wiped at his eyes and swung his legs over the side of the bed, hauling himself onto his feet. His head ached, an intrusive pain building at the back of his head. Frank sighed and carried himself to the bathroom to refresh and huff a cigarette.

Frank trudged downstairs and called out to his mother. No response came, and he realized after checking the time that she took off already to her shift at the hospital.Frank wandered into the kitchen, flicking lights on as he went, and he noticed a yellow sticky note plastered onto a medium pizza box centered on the dining table. Frank curiously peeled the note from the cardboard box and read what his mother scrawled across it.

' _I'll be back at midnight. Got you a vegetarian lover's pizza — hope you like it!_ '

Frank's heart warmed at the gesture. He wasn't sure if his mother was aware of how pure she could be, how her benevolent intentions showed a kinder heart on the inside. Frank located a pen inside one of the drawers in the kitchen and decided to leave his own note for her to discover when she returned home later that night.

' _Thanks mom. Love you._ '

He opened the pizza box, finding it was still warm, and his stomach grumbled at the scent of roasted green peppers and rich mozzarella cheese swirling under his nose. Frank eagerly jogged to the pantry to retrieve a plate and piled it with slices to satiate his hunger. He grabbed a cool water bottle from the fridge along with a dosage of Advil to relieve the throbbing steadily worsening in his skull, aching to absolve it as soon as possible. While he ate, Frank retrieved his phone, and with redness tinting his face, he realized Frances called several times while he was asleep, and sent a text message demanding him to return her calls immediately. Frank shoveled in a few more large bites of pizza before dialing her.

No more than three rings later, Frances answered, yelling, "You're fucking alive! Thank god."

Frank's face burst into flames and he sheepishly coughed. It seems someone filled Frances in on all she missed. "Uh, yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead."

"For all I know, you could've been spread on the parking lot like jam on bread."

"I'm pretty sure Adam or Ray told you I'm fine." Frank appreciated the concern to an extent, but he wished the entire situation away as it flooded his mind with unpleasant memories and emotions. He withheld a sigh.

"Obviously you're not dead, but _holy shit_ , Frank. Do you realize you could've been killed in front of everyone?" Frances's disbelief rang shrilly in her voice.

"Yes. But I wasn't. My head x-rays came back with no signs of damage." Frank absentmindedly rubbed the lingering soreness at the back of his head.

"The one day I ditch. Try not to get killed again, alright?"

Frank snorted. "I don't really enjoy playing ping pong with the reaper."

"Ha, funny. Seriously, Frank, are you okay? That was a really close one."

"I'm fine. My head kinda hurts, but it's not gonna take me out." Frank leaned back in the kitchen chair, ignoring the creaking noise it made.

"Are you still coming to school tomorrow?"

"I don't know if I want to. The last thing I need is to be the certain of attention again." Frank's anxiety would spike and worsen his condition once he captured the buzz reaching out to him.

"We'd like to see you. Adam tells me you didn't go back to school after it happened." Frances worriedly pointed out.

"No. The doctor suggested I should go home." Frank's thoughts lingered on the mental image of Donna's face matching the exquisiteness of the rest of her family, a strange feeling stirring in his gut.

"Well . . . I kinda need to give you your notes back. And I need to give you a hug. Near death experiences are not something my friends usually frequent in."

Frank chuckled, his lips forming into a half smile. "Fine. I'll be there tomorrow. I don't wanna linger on it though, okay? Enough people will be stuck on the subject as it is."

"Great. And, we're crystal clear. But I do have a question." Frances trailed off in a curious tone.

Frank's smile fell from his face. "What?"

"What the hell was Gerard Way doing to be close enough to shove you out of the way?"

The reminder of the event send a wave of aggravation flooding through Frank in an instant. He scowled recalling the stubborn impoliteness of Gerard's stance, fighting to convince Frank he was delusional. Frank suppressed the urge to bang his forehead against the table.

"I don't even know. I don't wanna know." Frank sighed deeply. Upon further thought, the explanation sounded insane, which was an impression Frank didn't want to give off. Gerard might not have been able to convince Frank he was delusional, but it wouldn't be difficult to convince others of it. "Maybe he was gonna ask about our project."

"That I'm assuming you did ninety-nine percent of the work for." Frances snorted.

Begrudgingly, Frank said, "No, he actually put in his part. He did some make-up work while he was gone. Shockingly."

"Well that's something. Maybe he would've made you do it all if he knew about your stellar gpa from your old school."

"I don't know, maybe." Frank chewed his lip. "Are we about to shit talk now?"

Frances giggled. "No, I was just checking in. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. And I won't be a ghost, in case you were wondering."

"Damn. It'd be cool to say I'm friends with an undead dude."

"Keep your hopes up for another time and another friend." Frank half smiled.

"Will do. I'll bring your notes tomorrow, see ya."

"Thanks. Talk to you later." Frank ended the call and set his phone down. He finished the remainder of his dinner and cleaned up after himself, washing the few dishes stacked in the sink and wiping down the counters so his mother would come home to a pleasantly tidy kitchen.

Feeling a burst of energy after shining up the kitchen, Frank decided to spend the energized inspiration by sweeping the floors, vacuuming the carpet, and dusting whatever surfaces it could possible compile on. He bustled around the house until everything was neat and pristine, going so far as to reorganize the inside of the pantry after taking in the lopsided rows and mix matched items occupying the shelves. Linda wasn't as much of a mess as Frank's father, and Frank assumed the organization would last longer while taking that into consideration. When Frank was finished tidying up, he lounged by the window where the rainfall lessened and puffed two cigarettes, feeding the craving building from the lack of nicotine consumption that day.

Frank showered and rolled out of the steamy restroom. His hands were trembling, he realized, as he sank down on the bed while running a towel through his hair to gather all the droplets of moisture dangling from the strands. His heart began erratically thumping, making the mattress underneath him feel as though it was shuddering along with the rhythm. Frank pressed an open hand on his chest, attempting to even out the pattern by breathing steadily, but it was a futile attempt. His phone belted out its ringtone during the middle of his second attempt to slow everything down, drawing his attention to it. Frank saw his father's name flashing across the screen.

"Hey dad." Frank answered, his voice a tad frail. His face scrunched and he tapped his throat, clearing it.

"I'm glad I finally got to call you, Frank. What's this I heard about you getting in an accident at school today?" Frank Sr.'s roughly concerned voice spilled out through the speaker.

Frank sighed silently in exasperation. He fell back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling decorated in plastered glowing stars, slowly connecting makeshift constellations between them. "You have no idea what kind of day I had."

Running through the entire event again, Frank expected to feel drawn, ready to move on from the subject. Although that preoccupied part of his mind, he realized as he revisited it again and took in the concern of yet another parent, it rattled Frank's core to realize how closely he grazed fatal injury or worse. What if his legs had been crushed, or he sustained a blow that paralyzed him from the neck down? If he were to take a worse killing blow, the future he slowly threaded together would never come to life, and his soul would be ripped from him at a tragically early age plastering him all over the news for days. Frank realized the source of his trembling hands and heartbeat was the absorption of shock. He forced it to subside to settle for being infuriated by a certain someone's unbelievable behavior. Sleeping away the minor aches allowed his body to shut down momentarily, and he wasn't given the time to reflect on the depth of what happened.

After hanging up with his father, Frank curled up under a blanket, rolling over to stare out the window where raindrops trickled like teardrops across the glass. He fought to breathe evenly, swallowing hard. He supposed he owed Gerard some gratitude for eradicating any of those horrifying possibilities flashing through Frank's mind. As miffed as Frank was, he couldn't deny the sudden soften at the inner linings of his heart to realize someone had given him a chance to continue on. He resented his inability to stay as angry as he was when not all factors turned out unpleasant. Frank took a deep breath and shut his eyes, pressing his cheek into the pillow underneath his head.

As much as he currently loathed Gerard Way, he'd find some way to thank him genuinely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! :D


	6. Infuriation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another one!! I hope there’s not any errors, I don’t catch all of them sometimes

The following day, the second Frank stepped past the school's gates, he found himself being attacked in a suffocating hug by two people awaiting him at the gate. He staggered, groaning at the tightness of their arms wrapped around him, and quickly realized the givers were Frances and Adam.

"I can't breathe." Frank wheezed out when the air was squeezed from his lungs.

Both drew away, and coming up behind them was Ray with an amused smile on his face, as faint as it might've been. Frank fixed his rumpled clothes, bewildered by the sudden swarm of affection.

"I'm sorry in advance." Adam said, befuddling Frank, before punching Frank in the arm without allowing the warning to absorb first.

"Ow! What the fuck?" Frank rubbed at the area where he received the blow. He could tell Adam held back on the intensity, which was impressive considering the ache. He shot Adam a look questioning his sanity.

"That's for not filling anyone in on how you were doing except for Frances."

"And I called him first!" Frances pointed out, flipping her braid over her shoulder.

"You guys knew I wasn't dead, shouldn't that be enough?" Frank arched a high eyebrow and his hand fell away from the sore spot on his arm.

"It is. They're just idiots." Ray rolled his eyes fondly.

"Toro, I will beat your ass at Guitar Hero later and laugh in your face for it." Adam whirled around, his voice bellowing out loudly enough for Frank's eyes to flicker around the campus in faint embarrassment. He wasn't ashamed of his entertaining friend group, he only didn't wish for attention to be directed towards them for the topic of Frank's incident to float back up into the air once people spotted him. 

"Boys are too fucking loud." Frances grumbled and stuck her elbow into the side of Adam's ribcage. "I should stick around with Kayleigh."

"You'd be winded by following her around while she runs her business." Adam waggled a finger in front of her face and Frances recoiled in mock disgust, batting it away from her.

"You're so annoying." Frances suppressed a giggle. "Run while you can, Frank."

Frank snorted internally, and began following in their stride and they slowly began making their way further onto the campus. The drizzle from earlier slowed into a subtle sprinkle dribbling across Frank's hood protectively drawn over the top of his head. He shoved his hands in his pockets and carefully maneuvered around the puddles resting on the ground while Adam carelessly stomped through them, splattering water across everything within close radius of him, so Frank favored standing near Ray to prevent getting his jeans soaked.

"Now that Frank's alive and here, we can tell him about my epic failure yesterday." Adam walked backwards to face Frank, his sunglasses he didn't have a need for speckled in raindrops.

"Your epic failure?" Frank echoed the words back in a curious way silently accepting the story behind it.

"I asked Kayleigh to homecoming yesterday." Adam sighed melodramatically, slowing his pace. "Her fascination with college boys lives on. She rejected me."

"Really? I had a feeling she was a little into you." Frank was normally correct about his assumptions because of the gift adding a sense of deeper intuition most couldn't grasp. He was puzzled to hear about Kayleigh's refusal after studying her behavior near him in the cafeteria on the day they met.

"Maybe she's waiting for you to go to college." Ray laughed from his belly and Adam swung at him with outstretched hands slapping at his arms.

"I thought she was a little into me, too, but I guess we were both wrong." Adam shrugged at Frank. "I should've shown her my bulging pecs. Maybe I would've won her over."

"Chicken arms Lazzara flexing in front of a girl." Frances rolled her eyes.

"I lift weights unlike you, Tinkerbell." Adam retorted.

"We're going in a group anyway, you could dance with her and pretend she's your date."

"Of all people, I thought you'd know how to treat women with respect, Francine."

Frank muffled his laughter by pressing a fist against his mouth, masking the strangled sound with a few coughs he forced from his chest.

Frances eyed Adam darkly. "You don't wanna doubt a feminist."

"Of course not. Which is why you agree I shouldn't act like Kayleigh is my date even though she said no, correct?" Adam quirked his eyebrows up.

Frances sighed. "You spend way too much time with me."

Ray and Frank exchanged a look, both amused by the exchange between their friends. Frank looked back down at his feet and stepped around a puddle, saying, "Get her some flowers or something that has to do with music she likes. I can tell she likes you, she might just be a little hesitant because she's used to her college boys."

"Are you some type of secret romantic?" Adam peered at Frank from under the slipping frame of his sunglasses.

Frank's cheeks blazed apple red under the three pairs of eyes darting to his face. He averted his gaze and studied his footsteps, scratching at the side of his jaw nervously despite there being no itch. "Uh. Sort of. I don't — I don't date a lot, but I like to help."

"I could use the help." Adam strode alongside Frank then, looking to him for further guidance.

"I asked if you needed input!" Frances cried. "I'm a girl, who knows about how to wow girls more than I do?"

"I need guy advice, tiny monster, relax." Adam leveled his hands in the air and Frances made an appalled sound.

"I'm going to take this girl somewhere else before she bites your ear off." Ray cooly escorted Frances by her elbow elsewhere before Adam ate away at the last of her nerves that morning. Frank's eyes followed them, and Frances looked over her shoulder, signaling to Adam that her eyes were on him despite being swept away across campus.

"What if I grew a beard? College guys have facial hair." Adam stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Frank chuckled. "I think it's intellect and mental maturity that appeals to her."

"I'm intellectual. And mentally mature. Kind of." Adam scratched the back of his neck, his nose wrinkling as he put his words into consideration. "Maybe not, on second thought."

"There's still something about you that makes her look twice. And not all college guys are mature, a lot of them are fuckin' idiots. You're better than half of them." Frank reassured his friend. "Just be you. Get her flowers, have some more one on one time with her. Give her a compliment. Not one about her body."

"Jesus, how do you not have half the girls here following you around all day?"

Frank's cheeks blazed. "I'm not the one trying to get a girl to go to homecoming with me."

"Why don't you ask your knight in shining armor?" Adam waggled his eyebrows, jesting. "Gerard Way, huh? I thought he'd be the one running people over, not rescuing unsuspecting pedestrians."

Frank tensed, mostly at Adam's carefree suggestion in his playful tone, and partially at the dreadful mention of Gerard's name he purposefully avoided thinking about when he realized it caused his heart to drag down into his stomach.

"He's a guy." Frank awkwardly cleared his throat, not so stupor at keeping a mask held over his face. He wasn't certain if he was ready to come out to one of his friends despite being fond of Adam; there was no way to be sure so soon if Adam minded any sexual preferences going beyond the norm in society.

"I'm just fucking with you." Adam shook his head. "Even if you were into dudes, you know, it doesn't matter."

Surprise colored Frank's expression. His eyebrows shot up, a flush rising high in his cheeks, although none of the surprise he experienced was unpleasant— in fact, it was quite the opposite. "Really? You wouldn't care?"

"'Course not. Fuck homophobes. I'm not into dicks, but if another dude is, hey. It's like tits to a straight guy. I get it." Adam shrugged as if it were the easiest subject to discuss on earth.

"Yeah, I guess." Frank hesitated, contemplation bringing the tip of his tongue to his lip ring to wriggle it momentarily. "What if I'm like that?"

Adam halted. Frank could see the roundness of his eyes under his high eyebrows from behind the lenses of his sunglasses, and Frank bounced his weight from one leg to the other nervously.

"You're gay?" Adam inquired in a whisper so no passing students could eavesdrop.

"Not fully gay." Frank corrected quickly. "A little. I like girls, too."

"So, you're bisexual?"

Frank fiddled with his thumbs and averted his eyes. "Yeah."

"Called it." Adam clicked his tongue thoughtfully.

"Called it?" Frank burst out in shock, his eyes flying open in their largest size. Tingles of the feeling causing him to cry out louder than necessarily flourished in the tips of his wriggling fingers he couldn't keep still at his sides.

Adam laughed carelessly. "You know how many times I've caught you staring at Gerard?"

Humiliation spilled over Frank's skull and flooded own the back of his neck in a halo of red. "Oh fuck— I don't like him. Like, no. That's not gonna happen."

"It's obviously never gonna happen cause I'm pretty sure that guy would only ever lay a hand on someone for procreation reasons as the last man on earth, but you can still think he's hot. You know that, right?" Adam slowly resumed walking and gestured for Frank to stumble along.

"Well. Yeah." Frank balked. "He's sort of . . . blindingly pretty. The personality, not so much." His eyes narrowed and a scowl automatically formed across his face.

"Damn. Did he kill your cat after he saved you?" Adam asked, the reason for Frank's reaction beside him.

"I'm a dog person. And no, he just — he's a douche." Frank gave it to him straight, but decided to leave it at that instead of being the type to spread rumors or speak ill of someone without their knowledge. "I'm not gonna talk shit."

"The only person he's ever talked to has nothing nice to say. He's gotta be a tool." Adam ruefully half smiled. "Sorry about that, man."

"It's fine." Frank rushed to say, then paused, absorbing the full set of sentences. "You're the first person who hasn't cursed me for not liking cats."

Adam threw his head back and laughed, unbridled and branched out from the center of his chest. He swung an arm around Frank and tugged him under it in a half hug of sorts, knocking his hood away to ruffle his hair. "You not liking cats is the least of my worries, little man."

When the bell alerting students to scurry to class trilled loudly overhead, Frank separated from his friends and went on his way, carefully avoiding anything on the ground that could cause yet another accident. He also avoided the stares he was given, shaking off the unnerving feeling of false concern birthed by incessant rumors being swapped around. He shielded his head from the rain with the protection of his hoodie, struggling between watching where he was going and what was below his feet. Frank managed to nearly barrel into someone's side when he lost track of his footing somehow and swayed before gaining his balance with a rosy color flooding his cheeks. In a fit of embarrassment, Frank spewed out apologies, and looked up to find Gerard was the person he almost collided with. He swallowed his tongue and stammered when their eyes met.

"Be careful. This weather is treacherous for the uncoordinated." Gerard's faintest smile lived mostly in his eyes while his mouth didn't give a single twitch. Water droplets dripped from his ebony hair and trickled onto his dark peacoat still unbuttoned near the top despite it being bitterly cold. Frank's eyes flashed to the pale neck being exposed and rapidly directed his eyes elsewhere as more color swirled under his skin. He couldn't believe how flustered he felt both at Gerard's words and carrying a stubborn image of Gerard's throat trapped in his mind. It felt sinful, almost, especially after their unpleasant conversation in the hospital the other day.

"I think I've managed just fine so far." Frank gestured to his lack of broken legs.

"Yesterday may beg to differ." Gerard's faint smile finally graced his lips, but just as soon as it appeared, it vanished. He meant to take off, but Frank's stuttering made him freeze.

"Gerard. About yesterday." Frank nervously looked around at the curious eyes pointed towards himself and Gerard stood in the middle of the hallway.

"We better head to class before we're late, Frank. We can talk later." Gerard said, not sparing another glance before dismissing Frank and going on his separate path. Frank stood there for a moment, staring after him in disbelief. Then, as the tardy bell trilled, Frank flinched in his spot and bolted off to class, doing all he could to shake off Gerard from his mind.

Two weeks later as classes bled by in a sluggish pace taking after grains of sand tunneling through a narrow hourglass, the rain adopted a pounding speed striking the rooftops and every visible surface with heavy water droplets like bullets once they collided with the ground. Students scurried as quickly as possible to their classes while shielding themselves with hoods and plastic binders facing up for the droplets to shatter there. Frank slipped a total of three times while attempting to rush between classes like the rest of the crowds, only being helped up by a decently friendly classmate on the final time, and Frank was mortified to realize his jeans were nearly soaked from the amount of landings he performed tumbling onto the slick pavement. The only bright side to the matter was the no better quality of the clothing his classmates wore. Frank's hood was near dripping by the time he arrived to lunch, taking shelter with his friends in the cafeteria.

Against his better judgement, Frank's eyes continued to dart towards the occupied Way table where all of the teenagers with alien beauty sat still, mumbling amongst themselves, the most chipper of the quartet being Kristin who paid no mind to the locked jaw of her boyfriend as she chattered away at his side. Frank pretended he didn't notice his eyes consistently locked with Gerard's across the room, but the clouds stirring in his insides coalesced with the glaciers in Gerard's presence that was touchable even through the distance. Frank felt it crawling up his spine, along with the gravitational pull residing in Gerard's gaze; almost like a panther, beautiful yet radiating a dangerous aura coiling under its sleek coat. Frank's throat dried each time he was ensnared by Gerard's eyes for a second too long. He downed his water bottle and ate little to nothing. His stomach bubbled and twisted far too much for him to build an appetite.

As expected, Frank was the talk of the school for far too long. He captured the whispers and the sensation of being the center of attention, spiking his nerves uncomfortably, and he tended to avoid the stares he felt burning into him while gaggles of students whispered to themselves about the accident. It increased when the driver of the vehicle nearly leading Frank to his death apologized to him publicly where all could see, and Frank was far too polite to tell him to leave him alone, so he graciously accepted the apology again and pleaded for him to let go of his guilt mostly for his own sake. Frank's friends poked at the subject until they realized he didn't want to speak up on the matter again, so they resumed their previous conversation, leaving it open for Frank to comment if he wished to join. He kept his communication at a minimum, focusing on ignoring Gerard just like he was intent on avoiding Frank, but failing to simultaneously. Gerard seemed an expert at forgetting someone existed. He made himself unapproachable in the weeks after the accident and made it loud and clear that he had no intention of speaking to Frank again. Frank was angered by it, but he let it be, hating to admit Gerard was far too intimidating those days to provoke.

The tension was sickening. So, when English class arrived, Frank made a decision. He planned to thank Gerard correctly for the incident, shoving aside his pride for a moment, and if Gerard chose to cut himself free from his off-putting attitude, Frank would see where their conversation went from then on. He wasn't so keen on becoming Gerard's friend, and it was overwhelming being in his presence for long, but the tendril of gratitude that swelled in his heart overnight couldn't be easily repressed. Frank was polite in nature, perhaps a bit too merciful, because any other person wouldn't give Gerard the time of day after his rude behavior at the hospital. He supposed, what with being so in tune with the actuality of so many people, he learned to see there was always more underneath the outer shell most couldn't see through. Whatever caused Gerard such turbulent suffering must've caused him to acquire a level of bitterness. With those thoughts, Frank ought to label himself as a therapist, making him chuckle under his breath as he took a seat.

Frank hesitated, tonguing at his lip ring with his lips sealed shut at first. He eyed Gerard's still form from the corner of his eye. Gerard was lost within his own thought with his eyes fixed on the whiteboard at the front of the classroom, void of much expression. Frank cleared his throat, waiting for Gerard to react to it. Gerard twitched, his eyes staying in place.

"Hey Gerard." Frank greeted quietly. It wasn't oozing ecstatic kindness, but it was leveled enough to sound casual.

Surprise flickered over Gerard's stony face. He inclined his head in Frank's direction, his eyes quickly glancing his face over. He nodded, then turned his head again. Frank's easy aggravation flared up. What was that about?

"How are you today?" Frank asked, resisting the urge to grind his teeth together.

Gerard's hesitation came before his answer. "I'm doing well. Thank you."

"I wanted to ask you that before asking if I can talk with you about something." Frank checked for any indicating signs of annoyance or reluctance.

Gerard blinked a few times. He looked to Frank again, his eyes staying there that time. "About what?" His almost timid voice was smoothed over, perfectly aloof despite the surprise Frank felt in him.

"I know on the day of the accident, we didn't exactly . . . get along." Frank twisted the words out, his eyes tightening with the urge to narrow. "Regardless. I wanted to thank you."

Surprise revisited Gerard's face, but that time, with a trace of softness in his strange starry eyes now boring into Frank's. Frank's teeth clicked, overcome by ice and hypnosis he fought against.

"You already thanked me."

"It wasn't under good circumstances." Frank squirmed in his seat and forced his eyes to escape from Gerard's gripping stare. His heart beat erratically when the image of their beauty burned in his mind as if he never looked away. "God knows what could've happened if you weren't there. So— you know, it would be fucked up not to thank you for it." _Even if you might regret it._

Gerard's eyes boring into Frank's when his stare flickered back felt like the shifting of planets above their heads, the gravity shifting between the weight of their gazes clashing together. Frank felt Gerard attempting to dissect him as Frank did Gerard, prying the glaciers apart in search for the source of crystallization.Frank wasn't sure if Gerard's search felt intrusive or adrenalizing.

"I couldn't let it happen," Gerard murmured, his voice edged in a delicate rasp. "You have too much to live for."

Shock sprayed through Frank like the embers of morning glory. They fizzled as they soaked in deep and he was mildly stunned by the depth of Gerard's answer; the fact that Frank had too much to stay alive for to be taken so soon. It was a thought he considered hours after the accident, reflecting on his role in the lives of others and the future yet to full unfold beneath his feet. It wasn't very odd for another person to consider it, but Frank was mainly stunned that Gerard of all people looked so deeply into it that it compelled him to become Frank's unlikely savior. As it all clicked into place, and as Frank assessed the shift in Gerard's jade and bottle glass eyes glowing like an unearthly presence behind his facade, some of the pieces struggled to stay secure in their place.

"My parents would've been devastated if anything happened to me. My mom wouldn't have forgiven herself for encouraging me to go to class despite the ice and snow." Frank found himself quietly rambling. "Seems like my friends would've been pretty blue. They were happy to see I'm not . . . dead or all battered in a hospital bed."

Gerard's eyes tightened around the edges before they softened again. "It takes life changing experiences for some of us to open our eyes to things we never considered before."

Frank's chest ached somehow at those words, spoken as though from a person who endured it themselves. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

Gerard nodded. His jawline lost his previous softness and he seemed to catch himself. He turned away with a calculated look, his eyes quickly falling away from Frank's. Another reality struck Frank again at his refusal to stay open, semi vulnerable.

"If you cared enough to save me, why would you push me away?" Frank asked, his brows furrowing as the words spilled out. "You seem cold. It's kind of confusing to me."

Gerard averted his eyes. He shifted his stony composure, and as he took a deep breath through his nose, his face tightened along with his posture. "It's best if you aren't associated with me, Frank."

Frank blinked slowly. "Meaning?"

Gerard's teeth clicked audibly. "As in, I don't want to be joined at the hip now. I wouldn't be a good friend to you."

Another wild spin. The atmosphere shifted so quickly that Frank was nearly dizzied by it, grasping onto it with slipping fingertips. He stared at Gerard in disbelief, wondering how a person who flickered on and off so frequently could exist. Frank understood the roughness of Gerard's voice laid out over the normal silky texture of it was meant to send out a signal for Frank to understand that he wasn't to be reckoned with, or pushed at any degree. Frank's approach was respectful, carefully executed, and at no point had he insisted on a desire to be joined at the hip, as Gerard phrased it.

"You just want nothing to do with me?" Frank asked, blurting it out. "Do you do this often?"

"Do what?" Gerard's head inclined slightly in Frank's direction, purposefully ignoring the first question to Frank's disdain.

"Save people's lives and act like you hate them after?" Frank patience spent seconds ago and he didn't refrain from adding the hard edges to his tone.His jaw clenched, his stare burning into the side of Gerard's face.

"I don't hate you," Gerard quickly said, softening at the core despite his actions and biting words. "I just don't think we'd make a good team."

"I never said I wanted to be your best friend."

"I'd prefer to keep it that way."

Frank's mouth fell open. He quickly snapped it shut before he was caught staring unintelligently. Seething, Frank's hands curled tightly around his school binder, enough for his hands to tremble and his skin to stretch taut and pale over his knuckles. He turned away from Gerard and internally battled with himself to resist the temptation to release a flurry of expletives that could get him suspended for violence. Frank gnawed at the soft skin on the inside of his cheek and kept his eyes straight ahead until the second the lesson began, refusing to give so much as a second glance to Gerard. If the absence of comradeship was what he wanted, he'd be given a cold taste of the very medicine he fed to Frank. Frank deliberately kept his eyes to himself and entertained his attention with things worthy of it during the length of the class session seeming to trickle by torturously slowly. Some movements from the corner of his eye were inevitable to capture; it was an instinct to be aware of his surroundings, he was only human, but Frank brushed it to the further end of his mind to save himself the energy that went into staying infuriated. He refused to come off as undignified by figuring out why Gerard viewed the thought of becoming friends with Frank such with obvious distaste.

The reminder of the project he completed with Gerard didn't help the matter, but Frank managed to wrench the neatly formatted and printed essay from his folder to pass it up towards the front of the classroom along with the sheathed drawing Gerard rigidly slid across the space for Frank to take. Frank brushed off the curious glances being tossed in his direction when their project was passed forward, the students undoubtedly wondering how a team project could've worked out between the new student and the enigmatic, standoffish boy who kept to himself unless it was a member of his family. The class went to review the grading process for the project and quickly skimmed over the history of the author of the novel assigned to them to pass the time by. When spare time was allotted, the teacher stepped back to begin leafing through the pile of projects as the students chattered amongst themselves at a controlled volume after the teacher asked that of them.

Frank retrieved his phone and his earbuds from his pocket to stick one in his ear, leaving the other available to the sounds around him in case the teacher made another announcement or the bell trilled sooner than he anticipated. Frank doodled aimlessly on a blank page in his notebook with a mixture of PJ Harvey and Sunny Day Real Estate while tuning out the presence sitting still beside him. Frank continued drawing an ungraceful graveyard monster scene on the page until the bell interrupted his pen scrawling stitches across Frankenstein's neck. Frank huffed out a sigh of relief and collected his things, tangling himself up in the earbuds in the process, and he let out a frustrated sound as the students all began to vacate the classroom along with the teacher who rushed out to retrieve something. Frank noticed Gerard moving slowly beside him, and he only tried to move his hands faster, yanking the zipper to his backpack shut. He stood quickly, rushing to the door, but the toe of his shoe caught the protruding leg of a chair that hadn't been pushed in properly.

Frank stumbled, flailing in a failed attempt to grab at the desk before he fell to his knees, but before his knees could crash painfully against the linoleum, a pair of arms wrapped securely around him to pull him back from his fall. Frank gasped, flinching. He was quickly steadied and the arms he felt retreated immediately. Frank spun around, seeing Gerard standing nearby at a safe distance. Gerard's eyes were slightly wide, almost surprised by his own actions, but it couldn't level with Frank's shock.

"Jesus Christ, I don't know how you're so fucking fast." Frank breathed, his heart thudding. Then, he folded his fists and looked away cooly. "Thanks. I need to go now."

"Frank, wait." Gerard called when Frank whirled around to scurry out of the room as quickly as possible.

Frank froze, one foot in front of the other. He wasn't permitted the time to process and form an answer before Gerard was stepping in front of him, uncomfortable yet determined all the same. Frank wished there was an obtainable escape route to take so he wouldn't be forced to listen to whatever Gerard had to say. Frank clenched his jaw and looked up at Gerard, his chin raised.

"Now you want to talk to me?" Frank asked rather unpleasantly.

"No. That's not the case." Gerard responded, filling Frank with renewed anger.

"What the fuck kind of answer is that?" Frank barked.

"Will you let me speak?" Gerard arched a high eyebrow, exasperated.

Frank's mouth glued shut. Instead of giving Gerard the benefit of his attention, Frank started to march past him. To his surprise, a hand wrapped around his wrist, halting him. Frank gasped from the stealth and freezing chill of the fingers wrapping around him. A jolt of ice shot through his veins along with something embarrassingly warm, that painful combination of winter and temptation exuding heavily from Gerard. Frank wrenched his arm away and turned to stare at Gerard with large eyes.

"Hey man, don't touch me." Frank meant to say it snappily, but it came out awfully breathy. His cheeks colored scarlet and he pressed his lips together in a tight line. He was grazed by humiliation to be caught in such a flustered state, and he couldn't understand the reasons why he was flustered, yet it was undeniable in the way it stained his cheeks in fresh blood churning hot under his skin.

Gerard's throat worked with a gulp. He took a guarded step back, his mouth twisted in a deep frown. "My apologies."

"It's . . . it's whatever. I'm gonna be late to class." Frank sighed.

"All I wanted to say was that I'm sorry for seeming unnecessarily rude. I don't dislike you, Frank. Really." Gerard's words rolled quickly like the wind.

Frank's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline at the unbelievable and contradictory words leaving Gerard's lips. "Really? You pretended I didn't exist for two weeks."

Gerard winced slightly and covered it up by dragging an open hand along the side of his face; a giveaway sign of stress. "I know. I realize my actions don't align with my words."

"Yeah . . . something like that." Frank said uncertainly, shifting his weight onto his other leg. Frank yearned to spit out his thoughts that Gerard was awfully contradictive and everything about himself twisted Frank's mind in complicated knots, but he held his tongue, wishing to become the bigger person if they should continue an unspoken feud of sorts. Frank didn't exactly consider it a feud, not when he barely grasped what stirred between them, which direction they were destined to go.

"It's just that— if we're friends . . . it isn't a good idea. I'm not the most pleasant person. I would end up disappointing you."

Frank pushed aside his pride to connect his eyes with Gerard's. He was struck to discover the faint anguish burning within them, as if all of his behavior contrasted with the truth of his thoughts. The silence thickening between them was full of patience stretching towards Frank for his answer. Regardless of what Frank saw inside Gerard's eyes, an instinct at the back of his mind knew better than to be so forgiving after taking the continuous blows of Gerard's uncontrolled mood swings, most of them coming across as improperly rude. Frank offered his kindness openly for it to be torn to pieces and sprinkled back into his opens palms once holding it out invitingly. Frank didn't take kindly to being treated unjustly; being the bigger person be damned.

"What the hell makes you think I want to be friends with you anymore?" Frank stared at Gerard in outrage. "I tried being nice to you. You treated me like you can't stand me. There's no excuse for that. Is this how you treat everybody who's ever tried talking to you?"

Surprise flickering across Gerard's face almost had Frank smug. "No . . . no. I'm sorry for offending you. Sometimes it seems like I'm watching myself speak without any control over it."

Frank huffed. "Sure. Look, if you secretly regret saving my life, it's not so secret, okay? I get it. You don't need to pretend you have no problem with me when I already know you do."

Pure shock openly shifted Gerard's expression, hurt brightening his eyes, the most genuine reaction Frank had ever seen to something he said. Frank's heart dropped, skipping a beat.

"I don't regret saving your life, Frank. Is that how you feel?" Gerard's velvety tone swooped down into a hushed sound carrying an outward gush of new dejection Frank could sense. It wrapped around him, an unwanted embrace. Frank suppressed a shiver and continued to stare at Gerard.

All in the frame of a second, Frank felt the barriers stripping down before him, a concealed truth baring itself the day it did the first time Frank's eyes heavily connected with Gerard's. He believed the tidal waves of ancient sadness unfurling in lashes of liquid hurting clashed with the frigid temperatures of a mysterious front bathed in loathing. The antarctic conditions rattled Frank's core and as the empath within was provoked, once again, the writhing began seeing the creature hidden behind the mask of bitterness baring its teeth to protect itself. The guard lowered and for once, in a matter of many days, Frank couldn't find the strength to harbor the poisonous taste of hatred for Gerard. As much as he longed to curse the gift of another form of sight, Frank couldn't stop the shaky intake of breath shooting through his teeth, coating his lungs in the fragility flowing from Gerard's eyes.

As Frank's demeanor shifted, Gerard's frustration rose again in combination with his truth. He searched Frank's eyes, studying his face, as if struggling to understand the person underneath the same way as Frank. Something inside Gerard was calling to Frank when he stripped the solid outer layers of himself to become vulnerable. Frank couldn't disregard the pull that wasn't there before. His heart quivered, and he took a stumbling step towards Gerard, his lips parting in surprise at his own instinctive move. He imagined Gerard's hands twitching, almost like he too nearly moved forward, but his restraint held him back. Frank couldn't believe the warmth forming in his own eyes that warned him of the beginning of teardrops. He was so tremendously moved that it was causing Frank to react in ways he'd never reacted to another human being before. Gerard was stunned by the appearance of glistening wetness framing Frank's eyes, his perfect lips falling slightly open at the sight.

Frank sucked in another breath and found relief when Gerard's gaze abruptly fell away. Frank's shoulders slumped and he scrambled, grasping his backpack tightly as it slung across his shoulder. It felt like his soul had become elastic while ascending from his body and it crashed back inside his body like the impact of a rubber band being stretched to the limit and suddenly released. He struggled to keep his interior emotions concealed, choking on the breaths tangling up in his lungs and scraping at the inside of his chest.

Frank glanced at the clock as reality crashed back into him. The tardy bell trilled just as his eyes read the number the hands landed on and he jolted in his spot.

"Shit!" Frank hissed. He moved to bolt, but Gerard's voice made his movements stutter.

"Wait." Gerard breathed. Frank nearly looked at him, he was so close, but he knew if he looked into Gerard's eyes, he'd never show up to class.

Frank hurriedly retreated with a pounding heart and moistened palms, feeling Gerard's eyes following him until there was no possible way for him to see Frank anymore.

The cold wind brushing up against his cheeks on his sprint to the gym also blew into his eyes that watered from before. Confusion tore him asunder as the teardrops spilled and he scrubbed them away in frustration, wishing he could take away the red tint living under his cheeks if it meant he had no reminders of seeing into Gerard's eyes to the point where he physically couldn't hate him for anything he did, because the truth of his actions was that he never acted out of spite. Something prevented him from being true. Frank wished he was indifferent, a normal human being who couldn't tell what others were feeling unless it was blatant or verbally shared. The weight of any degree of sorrow rested on his shoulders each time he met the eyes of a suffering soul pretending to socialize in an inconspicuous manner, but Frank knew what lied beneath their nonchalant expression.

The current unleashed under Frank's skin from where Gerard's fingers wrapped around his wrist, although it had been concealed, flourished in tingles all through his arm. Frank continuously shook at the sensation, even clasping his wrist and massaging the area in hopes to chase it out, but the seeping chill and electricity was stubborn. Frank couldn't fully concentrate during gym, which resulted in multiple losses of balance and bumping shoulders with active classmates participating fully in the class's activity. Frank wasn't sure how to stomach his reaction to the touch, to the depths of Gerard's eyes boring into his own, and how his mind began to recognize the ethereal arrangement of his entire being now that he couldn't bear to keep a film of crimson resentment over his eyes each time he glanced in Gerard's direction. His voice resonated in Frank's head, asking if Frank truly believe he regretted saving his life, and the question came with a begrudging answer; Frank wasn't certain if Gerard came to regret it anymore. His confidence was destroyed. After viewing the man behind the glass for such a brief moment, Frank knew there was much more to disentangle than he ever comprehended, and he began wondering if Gerard's apology was genuine. What kept Gerard hidden behind a barrier of glass? Could it have been unspoken fears polluting his sense of security?

It didn't explain his refusal to accept Frank as a friend, which knitted Frank's mind struggling to shape around everything he witnessed. Frank wasn't certain if they were a match in the friendship area; Gerard's magnetism and wildly intriguing face clashed with Frank's normalcy and decent looking features. Beside Gerard, Frank was practically another species of human, too average to compare at all. Was it possible Gerard was pretentious underneath it all and became aware from the second they crossed paths that their combination was sour? For some reason, Frank's chest ached to think of it, and he wasn't sure if it was only out of insecurity. He battled to suppress the flood of emotions that lingered like a steel ball in his stomach and the stinging in his eyes that renewed each time he thought back to what he gathered from Gerard in the classroom. His heart sank into his gut each time he remembered it as if the misery was all his own.

Frank walked to his truck at the end of the period and stood beside it for a moment. He took a much needed breath of fresh air and pressed his forehead against the cool door of the truck, relishing in the way it brought down the flush in his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he felt calm enough, he twisted around and moved out of the way when the two cars beside his truck went to slide out of their spaces. He waited for them to back up, and when he returned, his eyes instinctively traveled across the gap. His heart stilled when his gaze connected with Gerard's. Gerard was stood by the hood of his silver car, waiting for his family to arrive. His head was turned, his olive and golden eyes somehow visible like a lantern's light from the distance. Frank dreaded the moment their stares touched, prepared to sink again, but all he felt was the compelling gravity from earlier, intensified. Frank's breath tangled in his throat. His muscles tensed and it was difficult to look away— Gerard captivated him. That much he couldn't deny. But the pull was new, flourishing by the second, and Frank wasn't sure if he wanted to look away after a minute passed them by. Judging by Gerard's awareness of Frank and his drilling stare drinking Frank in as if it was his first time viewing him, he felt the same; unable to turn away. Frank's heart sunken down in his lower gut abruptly shot up to his throat and pounded as loudly as a war drum. Gerard's eyes glistened as if he heard it.

To his dismay, Frank's staring game with Gerard was interrupted by Frances coming over, jovially greeting him. Frank snapped out to the trance and turned his attention to her, his eyebrows raising. He blinked away the remnants of the strange sensation and hoped his flush wasn't too obvious.

"Hey, I'm glad you're still here." Frances said with pink cheeks that weren't her usual, and the same went for the timid sound of her voice.

"Hey. Did you need something?" Frank asked, clearing away the thickness in his throat. His eyes darted veins Frances and back to Gerard who stood with a faint smile on his face, his head turned towards the front. Frank's curiosity sparked.

"Yeah! Well, no, not like that." Frances chuckled. "I wanted to ask you something, actually."

Frank rose his eyebrows and tried to keep his eyes on Frances out of respect. "Sure, shoot."

"I had to grow a huge pair of balls to even think about asking you this." Frances bit her lower lip, the pink in her cheeks brightening. "So, the homecoming dance is coming. You knew that."

"Yeah?" Frank felt a trickle of panic at the back of his skull.

"I was wondering if— if maybe you'd go with me? As my date?" Frances fiddled with the tail of her braid and began fidgeting. "That's totally a yes or no question. Don't spare my feelings, I'm a big girl."

A wave of guilt ground against Frank's heart beating quicker now that he was faced with a decision to make with Frances right in front of him. Frank was already decided about the dance, but with being faced with an invitation, things changed. Doubling his anxiousness knotting in his chest, the connotations hinted at something Frank wasn't braced for; Frances's feelings that went beyond friendliness. Frank never wondered if she could see him that way, nor had he thought of her romantically despite thinking her beauty and personality were exceptional. Romantic feelings never developed between any of those observations, they were only facts to Frank. She claimed she could handle rejection if that was Frank's choice, but Frank couldn't be cruel, the guilt punching through him just thinking about him turning her down was enough to make him wonder if he should even do it.

"I . . . wow, I — I didn't expect that." Frank nervously chuckled. "It's not often the girl asks the guy."

"Well, it took a lot of encouragement." Frances beamed. "It's empowering, too."

"I bet it is." Frank shifted nervously, licking his lips and toying with his lip ring. "I didn't think you . . . you know."

"I just thought it would be nice!" Frances quickly jumped in. "Since Adam is going with Kayleigh, I sort of wanted a date, too."

Frank was relieved by her reasons, but the energy she exuded begged to differ, and he couldn't believe he failed to read into it. One thing caught his attention. "Kayleigh said yes?"

"Yup, she was just telling me about it." Frances bounced on her heels.

"Wow, I need to congratulate Adam sometime." Frank said somewhat distantly, aware of the exact moment Gerard's eyes turned to focus on his face. He swallowed hard and struggled to continue. "Well . . . I don't know if I'm the best date for you, Frances."

Her face fell to Frank's distraught. "Why do you think that?"

"I don't know, I feel like you'd click better with someone another activist and feminist with a brain as big as yours." Frank blushed. "I believe in those things too, but I'm not — I don't go to protests and stuff."

"You don't have to go to protests for me to want you to be my date." Frances shook her head. "You're cool. I feel like we've gotten pretty close in a short amount of time."

Frances was the one who reached out most, although Frank didn't consider her as much of a best friend as he did the people back home who felt so distant after the minimal to no contact after moving away. Frank scrambled for another excuse to make as quick as possible. It struck him quickly.

"Oh! Wait, I just remembered I'm not gonna be in town that weekend." Frank pretended the realization just hit him.

Frances's eyes widened. "What, really?"

"Yeah— I confused it with another weekend. I'm going to California. I'm sorry, I forgot." Frank hoped his excuse was passable. He'd rather let down Frances another way than risk hurting her.

Frances seemed a bit glum over the news, but she folded her lips understandingly, nodding her head. "Don't stress it, dude, it's okay. Plane tickets aren't cheap."

"I'm really sorry."

"Relax, I can't take it personally."

"I'd go if I could." Frank hammed it up a bit to chase away the disappointment he sensed in her.

Frances perked up at his response. She beamed, her cheeks peony pink. "Thanks, Frank. Hey, will you at least come to Adam's party this Saturday? I'm not sure if he told you about it yet."

Frank's instinct was to shrink away from the idea of being at a social gathering filled with people he didn't know aside from his friends, but he felt guilty shooting down Frances twice in a row. Frank forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, what time?"

Frances perked up more if it was possible. "It starts at 7. But everyone always turns up either too early or too late, so it doesn't matter what time you show up, really."

"Fun." Frank chuckled nervously.

"He's inviting people from the school down in Warrenton, he's got a bunch of connections."

"I can't promise I'll befriend everyone, but I'm open to meeting them." Frank was screaming in frustration inside his head.

"Awesome. I'll catch you later." Frances quickly pecked his cheek before flitting away, her hand cupped over her mouth.

Frank's dumbstruck expression froze on his face which he lightly touched after he took a small moment to process what Frances bravely stamped on his cheek. Crimson burned under his cheeks. At the sound of muffled laughter, Frank's eyes wheels around in the direction and landed on Gerard who moved around to the driver's side of his vehicle while his siblings filed their way towards him, his eyes beaming but his lips pressed tight together to conceal his laughter. He met Frank's accusing stare and a smile slipped, the radiance causing Frank's breath to hitch before he corrected himself. His entire face flushed hot enough to defrost his body that was practically transforming into an ice cube in the frigid temperatures outside. Frank pivoted, nearly slipped on the damp blacktop, and fumbled with the door handle. As soon as he landed inside the truck with the door slamming in his wake, Frank shoved the keys in the ignition and barreled out of the school limits.

That night, after Frank was finally able to deeply fall into the well of sleep after struggling to let the exhaustion overtake him, confusing images flashed through Frank's conscious along with fragments of mix-matched dialogue before a comprehensive scene materialized. Frank was wandering through the disorientating and infinite green of Astoria by himself. The cold didn't reach him in a dream, but the sense of loneliness combined with the panic of being lost was as vivid as any emotion he felt while fully awake. He stumbled through the piles of leaves and the fallen branches, nearly tangling into the endless obstacles falling into his unknown path. He started aggressively shoving at them, breaking into a frantic sprint, but the aggravating slowness of dreams made his legs feel as though he pulled them through pools of tar. Leaves and pine needles caressed his face like patronizing little fingers belonging to mocking entities telling him he'd never break free from the clutches of the woods. Frank yelled at them to stop, ripping at the branches, then teetering to an unsteady stop.

In the distance, someone stood there. They stared through the shadows until the darkness began to creep away from them. Frank squinted through it and realized the person staring from afar was Gerard. He was luminously pale in the evening glow, but the brightness of his eyes were swallowed whole by a daunting red visible to Frank even if he was out of reach. His stoic expression was still as stone, so was the rest of him as he stood there. Frank's heartbeat thudded and his body shuddered, recognition turning into a desperate form of need. Gerard was his only way of escaping.

"Gerard!" Frank called out brokenly. He took a step forward, only for the distance to expand. Gerard's silky chuckle echoed through the trees. In a quick flash, he circled the surrounding area, then, he landed in front of Frank, so startling close that Frank could feel the strength of his presence sinking under his skin. He stared down into Frank's eyes, his own darkening without any visible emotion other than intrigue that didn't match with his immobile stance. Gerard was suddenly Frank's only hope.

"You've gotta help me." Frank panted out. He reached out for Gerard, only for him to move his hand away, cocking his head at Frank.

"Are you lost?" Gerard asked in the same tone one would speak to a child in.

Frank swallowed dryly and bobbed his head in a nod. He moved closer, needing to feel the heat of Gerard's electricity emitting mysteriously from him. Gerard's silvery chuckle floated through the air like a river. He touched underneath Frank's chin, his fingers so icy that Frank shivered, but it wasn't only from the conditions of his skin. Frank stared imploringly, praying to find a savior in Gerard again. The red eyes gleaming in the visible moonlight ominously flickered.

Then, Gerard was suddenly much further away, no longer within reach. His back was turned as he retreated in the opposite direction, abandoning Frank to fend for himself without guidance in the wild brush seeming to find no end. Frank's panic sparked strongly as ever, his heart shattering at the betrayal after believing he'd be whisked away to safety again by the one resembling a fallen angel cursed to live on earth. Frank reached out, calling for Gerard, all to no avail as the figure in the distance began to gradually grow further from view. Fog swelled and rose over the ground, engulfing Frank within it, and he cried out for Gerard in the misty burial sending him careening to the ground in a fit of gasps as the gray fog streamed into his throat in a suffocating film clogging his lungs.

Frank woke up gasping furiously. He was stricken by chills wracking across his body as he shuddered in bed, sweat matting his hair plastered to his forehead. The blankets were askew and a pillow resting at his side before he fell asleep was lopsided resting on the ground, a shadowing causing him to startle at the beginning, but he choked around the ragged intake of breath mingling with his already pumping breaths working his lungs. Frank sat rigid in the center of the bed, his heartbeat jackhammering against his ribcage so incessantly that Frank wondered if it would permanently stay unable to find a calm rhythm again. Fragments of his nightmares collided with his intake of reality and the intensity of its memory had Frank rubbing at his temples, his brows furrowing deeply as a grimace worked over his lips. He wiped the lingering sweat away from his forehead and peeled the blankets back from his overheated body.

The repetitive image lingering that perturbed Frank the most was the crimson irises replacing the astronomic earthy tones of Gerard's eyes. They pierced through Frank's mind and continued to penetrate every portion of his being in icy blows crystallizing all of his limbs. Frank shuddered against them eerie sensation and swallowed hard, running a heavy hand through his hair dampened at the roots with sweat. As the unsettling images wrenched his insides in a twist of intuitive knots, Frank began to wonder if the nightmare was somehow a message spoken from the quietest chambers residing at the back of Frank's mind. It hinted at a far more ominous truth pooling in a chalice he was unwilling to drink from at the start, but as the shadow of his conscious wandered closer while he remained planted to the earth, the desire to learn what resided in the golden cup called to him with the mesmerizing pull of a siren. The fragments clenched in his palms were not shards of something broken, but rather clues to a portrait yet to be completed.

Frank stomped to the restroom to splash his flushed face with cool water. He ran it through his hair with raking fingers, running damp hands over his hands and across his neck to drain the heat from his body. The icy chill of the tap water revived him somewhat, and he shook his hands dry in the sink, staring up at his reflection once the tap was shut off. His eyes seemed painfully normal to himself after viewing the enchantingly unorthodox gaze of Gerard always weighing in on everything he couldn't reach while looking into Frank's eyes. As if he rummaged through every surface to find what was hidden beneath, searching for treasure he was certain Frank hid, but nothing was worthwhile, and Frank wasn't certain how he could convince Gerard nothing aside from the painfully ordinary was waiting to be discovered. As much as Gerard avoided Frank, each time their eyes connected, something reached out to Frank. It sounded like the muffled sounds of a weeping orchestra obscured by the miles of a roaring ocean swallowing up all signs of life that dared to venture closer. The waves warded Frank off before he could detect the source of the sound calling out to him.

In the dream, Frank despaired over Gerard leaving his side. He wasn't so sure if reality was all too different from the nature of unconscious images.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts! :,)


	7. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard’s unpredictability seems to get even worse and Frank is one step away from losing his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back!

While walking towards the front gates of the school, Frank's balance decided to give up on him as the toe of his shoe rammed into the parking block while misjudging the distance between paces. Frank's eyes bulged open wide in a panic as he wobbled to keep his balance, but ultimately reigned unsuccessful as his knees buckled while trying to grab onto the empty air filled with fluttering snowflakes melting before they made a landing impact on the ground. He fearfully stared towards a deep puddle he beforehand avoided stepping into and realized he was about to land inside it; before miraculously being captured by pale hands that seemingly materialized out of thin air. They clamped around his waist, and solid arms pulled him back from the looming puddle vowing to douse him in icy water if he collided with it. Frank made an odd noise and batted at the air, his heart flinging out of his chest and into his throat.

When he was balanced, the arms securing him onto the ground slipped away from where they circled around his waist. Frank's head snapped up and he pivoted to see whoever caught him with sickening intuition grazing his senses. His eyes locked with a pair almost sheepishly gazing at him, pale lips pressed into a thin line with the faintest frown across them. Snowflakes tangled into the windswept black locks framing his delicate face like pearls dotting the strands. Gerard shoved his hands into the black coat buttoned around his frame, taking the smallest step backwards as if he found their proximity too close despite not touching in the merest sign of contact. Although Frank was startled in the beginning, it faded quickly to identity the one rescuing him from toppling into a puddle and humiliating himself. Only Gerard could defeat time and normal speed in order to prevent Frank from waltzing into disaster's arms.

"Am I the only one getting deja vu here?" Frank commented rather dryly. Despite the knot of emotions tightening in his throat, Frank was still miffed by his interaction with Gerard the previous day. Most of the passionate disliking shriveled away, but the sour taste of the ashes lingered. Frank wasn't sure if he could trust Gerard.

"Your lack of balance is amusing." Gerard's murmur danced on the tails of the amusement he claimed to come across whenever he took note of Frank's ungraceful way of clambering through life. The surprise of the twist left Frank's eyebrows raising high.

"Are you going to be nice today?" Frank asked, half joking and half seriously.

Instantly, as Frank should've expected, Gerard's lightheartedness dissipated. His lips twisted into a frown resembling a scowl more than anything. Frank's eyebrows fell back into place and a huge sigh heaved out of him, and he swore his irritation formed a raincloud above his head.

"I guess not." Frank wrapped a tight hand around the strap to his bag. "Thanks. Have a nice day."

Frank sharply turned on his feet to march away with his dignity intact, but he was stopped by a light tug at his bag, a soothing voice softly requesting for him to stop. Frank's hairs rose like electrical wires traveling across his skin, tiny teeth digging into pores with microscopic tears. Simultaneously, an odd pooling of warmth swarmed through the inside of Frank's belly, pushing upwards, curling deep into the center of his chest. Startled by its apparition, Frank sucked a stream of air through his teeth. He clamped his mouth into a line and squeezed his eyes shut to gain some control, but alas, the instinctive urges of his body caused him to slowly turn in Gerard's direction. His eyes flashed open and his cautious stare steadily looked into Gerard's crumbling with regret. Frank's hands gripped tightly onto the straps to his backpack digging gently into his shoulders, not knowing what else to do with them as his insides roiled.

"I expected you to tell me to fuck off and storm away." Gerard's lips turned into a wry half smile stirring up trouble in Frank's traitorous heart.

"I was tempted to." Frank shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with the behaviors of his body compared to the wavelength of his mind. At least, the frontal portion of it avidly avoiding any of the marigolds blooming one by one each time recognition of otherworldly beauty and hazy dreams reflecting suppressed desires scattered through the fields of his consciousness. Frank swallowed harshly.

An evanescent chuckle streamed through Gerard's nose so faintly that it could've been the sound of the breeze floating past, but Frank knew it stemmed from Gerard, otherwise it wouldn't have caused the hair at the back of his neck to stand.

"You're quite forward." Gerard noted observantly. Yet again, discreetly allowing interest to peek through, baffling Frank to no end.

Frank blinked. "Do you have multiple personality disorder?" He deadpanned.

Shock sprang across Gerard's face. He quickly composed it a second later, overwrought with new discomfort. "I do come off that way, don't I?"

"It's beside me that you wouldn't notice unless someone pointed it out." Frank scoffed. "Especially when it comes to you and me."

Gerard's brows furrowed deeply over his eyes. He squinted them in thought, dropping his gaze to the ground, as if it pained him to reflect on his behavior. "Yes, well . . . I'm very sorry about that, Frank. We've established I don't dislike you."

"Actions speak louder than words." Frank's hands fell to his sides with a quiet slap. "I don't know, Gerard, I don't really have a reason to trust you."

"Maybe it's not wise to trust me." Gerard said softly, giving a fresh wave of pure ice coalescing into cascading waterfalls of anguish again like a punch to the gut with digging knuckles knocking the wind out of Frank.

Frank forced himself not to gasp aloud. He breathed out hard through his nose, wobbling a bit where he stood. "Why do you say things like that?" It came out far more tremulously than he anticipated. He was already beginning to grow weary from how much he took on whenever he so much as stood near Gerard.

Gerard's eyes flickered back to Frank's stabbing gaze. The caution radiating from him passed off as a warning between the lines, but Frank was prepared to surpass them and move behind the exterior to figure out why Gerard was so intent on keeping Frank at a distance. Frank stepped closer, watching Gerard's nostrils flare.

"Why do you want me to stay away from you so bad if you don't hate me?" Frank wasn't one to persist, but the staggering mystery surrounding Gerard's firm stance over their current status was something he felt the urge to uncover.

"I've given you a reason. I don't think it's wise for good people to associate with myself." Gerard pointedly stepped back in a gliding movement too graceful for Frank's to fully process before he was reacting to Gerard's response.

"Is that your way of saying you aren't a good person?" Frank sharply rose one eyebrow.

Gerard's lips turned up at the corners the smallest bit as he studied Frank's dubious look. "Not in the way I should be, I suppose."

"You're really unbelievable. Not the good kind." Frank sighed deeply and yanked the zipper to his jacket further up towards his neck. "You're so cryptic. It's frustrating."

"Cryptic?"

"Yes. You act secretively, and I can't understand why you're intent on keeping me away from you." Frank yanked his hood over his head as snowflakes gathered in his hair. "If you want that so bad, I'll be on my way now. Thanks for saving me from the puddle of death."

"Don't go, Frank." Gerard shook his head, stepping closer to Frank's utter surprise.

Frank's hard stare was inquisitive. "Why?"

Gerard's composure wavered. His eyes, appearing lighter than most days, connected steadily with Frank's, and the tender blossoms of sun-kissed petals preserved their unfair magnetism from the previous day; Frank was being drawn in again whether Gerard intended to ensnare him or not.

"I've been doing a fair amount of consideration." Gerard began. He rolled his lips into his mouth, eyes flickering between both of Frank's holding the weight of gravity engulfing the earth.

"Uh-huh?" Frank's heartbeat fluttered at an inappropriate speed for the matter of their conversation.

"I've been very unfair to you. Again, I'm sorry for how I've acted . . ." Gerard sighed, pushing a loose tendril of his hair away from his face. "I get the oddest sensation when I'm near you."

Frank's state of hypnosis shattered. He batted his eyes, fingers clenching tightly around his backpack strap. Bewildered, he laughed once, the sound high and abrupt. "You're kidding."

"No." Gerard's gravely serious expression had Frank's mouth sealing shut. "It unsettles me a bit. How you . . . seem to know me, whenever you look at me."

Frank's heart palpitated, that time out of something opposite of attraction. Well, that certainly wasn't something Frank was braced for. He felt stripped and uncomfortable all of a sudden. He swallowed through a tight throat and adjusted his stance, his tongue flicking out to wet his chapped lips. He tore his eyes away and rested them on the ground to remain there.

"I don't know why. I know close to nothing about you." Frank's lie slipped out in an unconvincing tremble bringing a wave of frustration crashing over the crown of his head to his toes.

"Yesterday, Frank. Something happened." Gerard's voice swooped down into a softer tone like velvet against gravel. The sound of it grazed Frank's exterior stubbornness and eroded the surface until he worried the truth of his internal turmoil while holding Gerard's eyes became more translucent than he could've prepared for. Knowing Gerard sensed something out of the ordinary yesterday unnerved Frank. How could he admit he sensed things others couldn't easily detect by simply locking eyes with another person, or standing near enough to them to feel their radiating energy? Above all things, how could Frank tell Gerard he knew about his personal suffering hidden away?

"I was just upset. And shocked that you don't actually regret saving my life." Frank quickly turned his cheek to avoid the sinking sensation forming under his feet holding Gerard's stare steady. He flexed his jaw and batted a loose tendril of hair away from his face.

"There's something more to it." Gerard was persistent, perhaps showing a sliver of stubbornness he had in common with Frank. They clashed in a sense, but in the same stride, it was revealing to see more to him. Frank's mind separated Gerard from ordinary humankind into a unique category he couldn't balance out with a title.

"Why do you want to know?" Frank bristled defensively when Gerard wouldn't let go of it. He didn't mean to come off so abrasive, but the urge to protect his gift from Gerard came from a place within that knew if Gerard became aware of it, Frank's chances at knowing anything more about his mysterious character would be torn away from him.

"It's not the first time you've given me that look." Gerard hovered closer, if it were possible for him to stand at such a close proximity in anything other than a dream. Frank wasn't sure if he realized it, or he only did it with the intentions of his voice reaching Frank alone as students randomly strode past to enter the school. Frank looked up at Gerard, reading into his eyes, almost feeling the icecaps in his bloodstream and the honeyed valleys of green lying beyond the brewing waterfalls. It was beautiful, yet terrifying all the same. Then again, to find wonderland was to tumble down the rabbit hole.

"I don't know you like that, Gerard." Frank spoke in as low of a tone as the one Gerard used.

"Personally, of course not. But I've been lead to believe you know more than you would admit." Gerard's eyes narrowed the slightest bit. "Two times, you've looked into my eyes and grown so aggrieved."

Frank swallowed to rid of the dryness patching in his throat, almost choking on it. His cheeks blazed scarlet to have been figured out so simply; was his face so easy to read that Gerard managed to discover the crushing sorrow Frank experienced if he searched Gerard deeply enough?

Gerard quickly addressed his blushing face and his jaw hardened. He stepped away, glancing around them with caution. Frank curled his fingers into the bottom for the thick jacket laid over his clothes, attempting to slow his thrumming heart.

"Can I not be empathetic towards someone who looks miserable all the time?" Frank attempted to pass off what Gerard sensed as basic human empathy.

"It isn't only empathy." Gerard shook his head, a piercing gaze staring directly at the ground. "Something is different."

Frank couldn't find words to block Gerard from the path he moved towards with stealth. Meeting a blockage in his mind, and taking in the unwavering stature of Gerard standing in front of him, options were limited. Gerard detected something he wouldn't easily allow to slide without notice. It could've been invasive, even if it was never Frank's intention to pry. He couldn't escape his ability even if he tried to create a shield around himself so he wouldn't have any advantages. As he felt himself being shoved into a narrow corner, something clicked at the back of his consciousness that slowly floated forward. Frank's fingers tightened over the fistfuls of clothing he clung to.

"Let's say something is different," Frank rasped out. "Would you tell me the truth about yourself, too?"

"What truth?" Gerard was guarded as he asked the question. He warily met Frank's eyes.

Frank's palms felt clammy, and his heart jolted in his chest. "How you're so fast. How you always seem to be there at the right time. Andthe real

reason why we shouldn't be friends."

Gerard's jaw locked. His eyes flitted away, but Frank felt the strange shift in his energy. It was never clear enough to decipher a specific emotion, but whatever entered Gerard's wavelength spiked sharply in Frank's chest and gut, almost like the chokehold of anxiety, but not quite the same.

"I've given you explanations, Frank." Gerard tersely refused to indulge Frank with anything he hypothetically asked for in exchange for his own truth.

Frank's heart sank, but he pretended it hadn't. He lifted his chin and shook his head tiredly, giving up on the pointless tension if it wasn't going to lead them anywhere. "Then so have I. If that's over with, I've gotta meet with my friends before they start looking for me."

Gerard's stony eyes softened meeting Frank's fleeting glance at his face. His silence encouraged Frank to turn away, avoiding the puddle he nearly toppled over into previously, and swiftly strode away without glancing back over this shoulder. He worried that if he did, he'd hesitate, and that hesitation would make him slow to a halt. If Gerard wasn't going to be truthful, if he insisted on keeping Frank shrouded in shadows, then Frank wouldn't give him the benefit of knowing anything else about himself. It felt like the hundredth time Frank nearly sprinted away from Gerard, and each time he turned his back, the heavy the iron ball resting in his gut seemed to get bigger. The weight of it dropped down to the ground and shackled around his ankles, dragging behind. Knowing more than Frank should have ever known about Gerard kept the guilt fresh in his mind, sensing something prevented Gerard from being truthful, but he couldn't imagine what could possibly cause his moods to flicker like the night and day. Frank couldn't uncover the meaning behind it no matter how many attempts he made at rowing through the glaciers to find the fields of flowers beyond the ice.

It was best to purge his thoughts of Gerard entirely so the burden wouldn't rest on his shoulders at all times, but Frank reached a point where it always lingered in the horizon, and he couldn't shake all he witnessed and mulled over for hours at a time. Flashes of forgotten dreams and the most prominent nightmare plaguing Frank's mind replayed and mingled with reality, piecing together bizarre images making shivers ripple down his spine. The tune of Gerard's voice like brand new gilt-edged books and the scent of fresh ink mingling with the perfume of wildflowers sweetly wrapped around Frank and his heart trembled if he focused on a mental image of Gerard's eyes, strangely alive and green like the internal meadows of his. The clash of sensations clumped together in Frank's chest and he wished he could claw it out.

His frustration brewed and stayed with him during each of his passing classes. The spiderweb only continued to weave together the more he built upon it while swearing he wouldn't for another second, yet Frank's mind always traveled back to each incident and confrontation, pulling apart exchanges down to tones and possible implications hidden within the words. The complication of Gerard as a being would always enervate Frank while somehow fueling his flaw of _needing_ to know about the things he couldn't understand. He thrust himself into the abyss of the unknown until he could emerge again with a broad education on the subject or person, never leaving loosened ends behind. Gerard was unique, something Frank couldn't research or define with vocabulary fished out from a dictionary or thesaurus. He was infuriatingly out of reach. It ground Frank's nerves to dust. The only satisfaction he gained from all of it was knowing he was an enigma to Gerard as well, and he too would suffer trying to figure out the difference in Frank compared to the rest.

When lunch arrived, Frank stood in line beside his friends, as per usual. He had an unopened can of soda in hand from the vending machine and a bag of chips, his appetite scarce. His eyes casually scanned over the place to mask his constant darting glances to the Way table at the other end of the cafeteria. Only three members occupied the surrounding chairs. One was absent, the very constant intruder in Frank's thoughts. Gerard's absence from the table was clear to Frank, which oddly enough made Frank's heart sprint a beat quicker with a flush of unexpected worries; was Gerard feeling unwell? Had Frank upset him enough to make him leave the campus? The flash of anxiety pinched in his stomach and took him by surprise.

"Holy shit." Frances hissed in a whisper beside Frank sharply enough to gain his attention. Everyone in their circle turned to look at her in concern.

"What?" Kayleigh asked, a pucker between her perfectly groomed brows.

"Gerard Way is walking over here and he's looking right at us." Frances spat through her teeth, panic in her eyes staring behind Frank. Everyone went rigid, including Frank, but he was certain his insides stopped functioning for a second. His eyes slowly widened.

Before Frank could spin around, the ghost of a touch grazing his shoulder made him jolt. Frank almost shrieked, but contained it, and spun around. Gerard stood there and drew his hand away from Frank's shoulder, nonchalance written on his face, but his eyes gleamed in amusement at Frank's staggered reaction. He swore he heard Frances gulp from behind him.

"Sorry if I interrupted anything." Gerard's smile was evanescent. "May I steal you just for today?"

Frank gawked. He slowly turned to look at his friends who were all slack-jawed and staring. Frank warily turned to Gerard again, his heart misbehaving again. "Uh. What for?"

"I'd like for us to sit together and talk." Gerard spoke with so much composed causality that anyone else wouldn't have suspected a thing. But there was intent behind Gerard's invitation. He was up to something. Frank was drawn to it.

"I — yeah, I guess?" Frank said slowly. He looked over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll catch you later, guys."

"I hope you don't mind me stealing your friend for the day." Gerard pinned Frank's friends down with a smoldering gaze and a friendly expression making him appear so beautiful that Frank nearly squinted from the glaring intensity. His breath hitched.

"It's fine," Frances responded in a high voice, her face flushing bright red. "You two have fun."

"Thank you. I'll return him to you safely." Gerard jested, keeping the tone light, and turned to Frank with inquisitive eyes. Frank stumbled over the change in Gerard's demeanor yet again. He swallowed, avoiding the drilling stares from his friends as he walked away with Gerard. He'd undoubtedly be grilled with questions when they got him alone next. He held in a groan and followed Gerard to a vacant table far from the one he normally occupied.

Gerard sank down on one side, and Frank sat on the other. He shrugged off his bag and unzipped his hoodie, baring the black shirt with a Joy Division design printed over the front. His lunch items spread out in front of him, Frank sat back in his chair, fingers digging into the torn holes in his jeans and twisting around the frayed strings poking out. He stared at Gerard who sat too placidly, meeting Frank's eyes steadily, as if he practiced during the time they spent away from each other. Frank had been sitting there for the smallest pinch of time and he already felt terribly awkward.

"I like Joy Division." Gerard commented on Frank's choice in apparel.

Despite all the thoughts and emotions Frank had about Gerard being as unclear as ever, surprise managed to nestle in somewhere. He glanced between his shirt and Gerard skeptically. "You do?"

Gerard nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting. "I have the same shirt. Vintage."

"No way." Frank automatically found himself saying, all skepticism gone without a trace. "This is a reprint 'cause I never find vintage ones, how did you get so lucky?"

Gerard chuckled, looking away swiftly. "A passionate collector such as myself always has luck on their side."

"I'm jealous." Frank found himself returning Gerard's smile, shaking his head. "I've been digging for the original shirt for months."

"Do you collect items like that as well?"

"If I have the means. By that, I mean the money." Frank popped open the soda can on the table, the fizz hissing after the satisfying crackle of the tab breaking through the aluminum.

Gerard folded his arms on the table, tracing over Frank's features. His stare holding the weight of the universe was always difficult to peer into at first, but Frank managed to firmly settle his returning stare on it. Capturing the struggle to comprehend in Gerard's eyes, Frank was abruptly drawn back to the oddity of sitting across from Gerard when only a day prior, he suggested for there to be no association between them.

"Why did you want to sit with me?" Frank started off by asking a simple question. He rose his canned Sprite to his lips and took a small sip without tearing his unsure eyes away from Gerard.

Gerard folded his pale hands together atop of the table, and Frank's eyes darted to the speckles of red paint scattered around his cuticles, memoirs of an art project. Somehow, it made him seem more normal.

"I thought we could talk." Gerard straightforwardly added, "Despite what you may think, it's difficult to not want to talk to you."

Taken aback by his words, Frank felt warmth blossoming under his cheeks like the spreading petals of roses in the spring. He ignored the way his heart stammered and his mind glitched blankly for a second. Gerard was just a ball of unpredictability, wasn't he? Frank would've appreciated some warnings. He moved past the initial reaction and wrapped a tight hand around his soda can, drawing it towards him. The space between his brows puckered and his lips arched into a frown.

"You know I'm not all that interesting." Frank murmured. He wouldn't be flattered, not after the way Gerard treated him prior.

Gerard's softened eyes colored a shade brighter than normal observed Frank's shift; the minimal loss in tension, the flustered blush. Frank wished his blood would keep itself away from the surface of his face so it wouldn't expose the truth of his perplexing emotions.

"I think you are." Gerard said in a tone as gentle as his eyes. "I honestly didn't meant to give you such an awful first impression of myself."

"First impression is a bit of an understatement." Frank sighed deeply, resisting rolling his eyes.

"First few impressions. Does that sound more correct?"

"It's satisfactory." Frank pulled the tab of the soda can until it tore away and rolled it between his fingers. He kept a nonchalant expression despite the disruptive behavior of his insides practically disintegrating from the amount of complicated things he experienced when Gerard stared at him as if there was nothing else he could be so intrigued by. There were so many other things he could be interested by, like the recent cold case that was recently solved after remaining a mystery for a decade just one town across from Astoria, or the ongoing school scandal where Devin Masters was caught hooking up with Jennifer Gillan's visiting cousin. Yet, there Gerard sat, choosing _Frank_ of all people to be interested in. The most enthralling quality about him were some of his talents he kept to himself mostly. Frank swallowed nervously and kept his eyes on his beverage.

"You must admit . . . it wouldn't make sense for you and I to be friends." Gerard lowered into the gravelly tone from earlier that set Frank's heart into overdrive, like something was pending, and whether it was ominous or pleasant was a mystery yet to solved.

"No, it wouldn't." Frank easily admitted it to himself and the latter. "My friends had a stroke when you walked up to me."

"Exactly my point." Gerard chuckled, darting his tongue over his lips while finally looking away. "They know when someone is bad news."

That time, Frank couldn't resist rolling his eyes. "God, don't be so melodramatic."

Stunned, Gerard rose his eyebrows high. "What?"

"You make it sound like you live in a movie. You're the bad guy, you have issues, no one should bother getting close to you." Frank slumped back in his chair, dubiously shaking his head. "I don't buy any of that, you know. It just makes you really frustrating. A little irritating, too."

Gerard was bewildered into silence, practically gaping with his stare fixated on Frank. The longer silence strung between them, the more Frank realized the bitter bite to his words, the more regret set it. He allowed his pent up vexation to lash out. Chewing his lower lip and wriggling his lip ring with the tip of his tongue, Frank released a slow sigh.

"Sorry. That came out way more rudely than it sounded it my head." Frank apologized for the insults.

Gerard surprised Frank with a short lived peal of laughter. Gerard unfolded his hand to run one through his unruly jet black hair, sitting back. "Not without reason. It's fine, Frank."

"If you know what you're doing is wrong, then why do you do it?" Frank caught onto the running theme of Gerard being aware of his effects on Frank.

Gerard soaked up a majority of his amusement and sobered up. He rolled his lips into his mouth, resting his hands on his legs under the table. "Would you believe me if I told you I thought I was doing the right thing?"

"No." Frank tightened his lips.

Gerard chuckled, amused by Frank's sliver of animosity while being baffled over how anyone could think acting coldly towards another person was the right thing.

"I don't expect you to. I'm disappointed in myself. It's not an interest of mine to hurt people."

"I'm not hurt. Just very confused." Frank corrected, but he wasn't being very truthful. The hot clench in his chest whenever he thought too deeply about Gerard's unpredictable moods counted as hurting. Frank couldn't decide why it held any importance to him when he normally didn't tolerate any form of mistreatment.

"I'll make a deal with you." Gerard leaned forward. Frank was drawn in and found himself leaning in as well, his chest nearly touching the table.

"What sort of deal?" Frank asked before agreeing to anything.

"I'll give you answers . . . if you give me the same in return." Gerard proposed, arching one eyebrow. The corner of his lip quirked as he gazed at Frank from under his lashes. The hypnotizing pull of his beauty was enough of a persuasion to have Frank on the brink of agreeing instantaneously, but he wavered for a second when he recalled the questions Gerard had in store for him that morning.

"That's not fair." Frank narrowed his eyes.

"How is it not fair?" Gerard's eyes widened.

"I asked you for answers first." Frank pointed out. "I don't owe you any explanation for what you think is different about me."

"You'll get your answers." Gerard clarified, his small smile growing in size. "It's a fair trade in the end."

"Bullshit!" Frank nearly cried. "I would shake you by the shoulders if I wasn't surrounded by people right now."

Gerard's delighted laughter made Frank's head spin. "I have no doubts that you would." He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's your choice, Frank."

Frank groaned in indignation. Gerard knew Frank wouldn't step down until he received the truth, and in order to obtain it, Frank would need to metaphorically strip first. He glared at Gerard and petulantly pouted while hunched in his seat, mimicking Gerard's arms crossing over his chest. Gerard's amusement seemed to swell while watching him, reflecting like jewels in his eyes.

Surrender came over Frank after a long moment of contemplating. He let out a long breath through his nose, letting his arms fall away from their position over his chest. Frank groaned again, taking a swig of his drink. "What do you want to know?"

Triumph was incandescent in Gerard's face. The breathtaking visual made Frank's glower sour even more.

"I'd like to know about your ability." Gerard straightforwardly laid down what he was working towards figuring out.

Frank blanched. "Ability? I — what makes you think I have an ability?"

"I know you do." Gerard's brows furrowed slightly, eyes searching deeply into Frank's. "You know something."

"I know as much as I see."

"What you see — that's exactly what I suspect your advantage is. You see more than you're willing to admit."

"I'm starting to believe you're just being nosy."

"How do you mean?"

"You're convincing me you actually regret being rude so you can butter me up and get answers out of me." Frank's hard stare didn't falter. "That's fucked up. If I'm right."

"No, that's not what I'm trying to accomplish." Gerard dropped some of the intensity and unveiled the true light of faint sadness in his eyes, immediately taking Frank aback.

"Then — then you owe me another apology." Frank refused to unravel completely.

"Alright." Gerard went to form one, but Frank held up a hand to stop him.

"I want you to say, 'I'm sorry for being an asshole and upsetting you, Frank.'"

Gerard's lips gradually curled up in the smallest smile Frank couldn't resist returning in his own satisfaction. Frank sat back to watch it happen, gesturing for Gerard to get on with it.

Gerard leaned forward, locking eyes with Frank, amusement vanishing to show his sincerity. He sighed softly. "I'm sorry for being an asshole and upsetting you, Frank."

Frank shouldn't have enjoyed the way his name sounded like velvet rolling off of Gerard's tongue, a fine fabric he wished to wrap around his skin and disintegrate into. He pulled in a quick and shaky breath mostly silenced to avoid Gerard hearing it and he pressed his crossed arms hard against his chest to tell his fluttering heart to knock off its traitorous behavior.

"Does that convince you?" Gerard asked when Frank didn't say anything to acknowledge his apology. "I'm not sure if groveling in the middle of the lunchroom would play out well for the both of us."

Frank battled with his smile until he couldn't contain it anymore. He looked away as his mouth curved, a little giggle bubbling up. "As much as I'd love to make you grovel, yeah, that would be kinda humiliating on both ends."

"Am I forgiven?"

Frank sighed deeply and his mind returned to the reasons why Gerard was apologizing to begin with. Gerard caught onto what Frank concealed from the rest of the world. Frank was so staggered that he wondered if each time Gerard gazed into his soul, he was also capable of reading into things further than an ordinary person. Frank lost his footing and stumbled over words, possibilities of excuses, but there was no moving around the obvious fact that Gerard couldn't be taken for a fool.

"Forgiven? A little. I still don't know if I can trust you." Frank met Gerard's eyes while telling the truth.

Gerard nodded solemnly. "There's no way I can convince you that you can trust me."

Hope flickered in Frank. "Does that mean I don't have to tell you anything?"

"The problem is, I've already caught on, Frank." Gerard chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Somehow, it involves me."

That much was not open to any arguments. Frank figured that if he was entitled to answers, Gerard was as well for the way his sadness was unintentionally invaded. Gerard didn't come off as the type to share tales of his hurting with everyone, he was extremely guarded and never spoke to anyone besides his family, while Frank, a practical stranger, seemed to unground what he kept secret.

Frank swallowed down another gulp of soda as his heart hammered violently. He swiped his hand along his jeans to wipe off the condensation. He picked up on a key thing Gerard said to branch off into a starting point. "I don't . . . see things."

Gerard leaned forward in intrigue. His earnest eyes patiently waited for more, his hands folding together in front of him in an elegant tangle of fingers. Frank nervously shoved a lock of hair away from his forehead and scrambled together a series of words that could properly explain the phenomena gifted to him at birth. He never outwardly spoke about it, and never had someone peering so closely in hopes of soaking in every fiber of what Frank had to say. It was nerve racking, to be honest, having someone pay him their undivided attention.

Frank licked his lips quickly and burned scarlet in his face. "I sort of — well, it's a feeling. Not really a superpower or anything. It's more sensation than hearing or seeing."

"What do you feel?" Gerard's interest was boundless and intense clinging onto every word passing through Frank's lips.

"I feel people. Like. Their . . . energy?" Frank struggled to find an appropriate word.

"In a spiritual sense?"

"No. Not really. Maybe? I probably sound stupid as shit for not knowing my own gift."

"No, you don't sound stupid at all." Gerard's soft reassurance came as a surprise. "It's hard putting certain things into words."

"Right." Frank whispered. He was compelled to move forward by Gerard's gentleness. "I need to be near someone to get a sense of who they are. If they're kind, or warm, if they're not pleasant."

Fascination bloomed in Gerard. "Can you feel emotion?"

"Yes. If it's strong enough." Frank's weight dropped out from under him focusing on Gerard's energy again, the frost fanning across his skin and sinking under. "Some are a lot more intense than others."

Gerard held Frank's gaze, as if allowing him to dig deeper. Slowly, his eyes traced Frank's features while sitting frozen for observation. It was as sensitive of a feeling as fingertips brushing against his skin. Frank shakily sighed and broke off his stare when the thunder shuddered through him again, yet his lips were left warm and tingling from the desire he felt hidden away in Gerard. That was new.

"Have you always had this?" Gerard asked.

"Yes. Some of my family members are really intuitive. I guess I got the gene, just a little mutated."

"What about thoughts?" Gerard sounded more demanding than Frank expected, but it was only due to the need to learn more, to know. Frank found another similarity between them in that.

"Can you elaborate?" Frank asked.

"Are you able to depict someone's thoughts if you look closely enough?"

"Oh, no. Thank god for that. I'd fucking hate to hear anyone's thoughts. It's so intrusive." Frank vehemently shook his head.

Gerard's faint smile was a trace of an unknown type of amusement playing at his lips. "I suppose it is, in some ways."

"I've only been able to get a feel of energy and emotions." Frank swished his drink that fizzled in his can. "I don't do it on purpose."

"It comes to you naturally." Gerard noted.

"Yes. I can look deeper if I want . . . that lets me see more of what a person feels as a whole. All

of their emotions. It's still sort of faint." Frank swallowed thickly. "But, like I said. Some are more intense than others."

"Where do I fall?"

Frank's eyes darted up. Gerard masked the burning curiosity roiling through him, so thickly that Frank could feel the heat of it emitting from him and defrosting the glacial caps in his silver waterfalls.

"You're the most tortured person I've ever met." Frank found no reason to beat around the bush if Gerard was searching for the purest form of the truth. It could've worked as a gateway for Frank's earning of answers.

Gerard tensed up around his shoulder, his handsome face growing stony. Just as warmth entered him, it was vanquished by a blizzard piercing through and eradicating the thawed portions Frank was slowly accessing. It was similar to a steel door slamming centimeters away from Frank's face. He couldn't help but flinch, thrown off by the rapid shift in sensation.

"Stop that." Frank whispered through clenched teeth.

"Stop what?"

"Shutting me out." Frank squeezed his eyes shut. "You think I don't feel it? You don't let yourself be vulnerable."

"Am I expected to pour my soul out to you?" Gerard catapulted.

"No. I would like for you to stop pushing me away." Frank's eyes flashed open in a piercing glare.

"How do you . . .?" Gerard was stunned through his tension.

"It feels like you're slamming a door in my face." Frank rubbed his eye and frowned deeply. "Do you like getting doors slammed in your face? I doubt it."

Gerard's defenses were locked down tight, but something shifted in his eyes. The tightness surrounding them loosened and a decade's worth of youth returned. Frank wished he could coax the rest of the frigidness out from the inside so only the clear valleys were present. If the sorrow couldn't be diminished, the least Frank could do was paddle through the obstacles and get it through Gerard's head that Frank saw through the mask and sympathies developed for him. He could find a friend in Frank.

"Isn't it enough that you see more than others?" Gerard asked the words in a slow progression, a silky tone doused in the threat of gasoline beside an open flame.

"No." Frank deadpanned. The truth was, Frank wasn't at all frightened by Gerard no matter how he insisted he should be. Vocally, he hadn't expressed that desire, but Frank easily sensed it. Gerard was unfortunately easy to read, soaking Frank's internal third eye to an extreme.

"You're a stubborn thing, aren't you?" Slightly miffed while simultaneously hiding a smile, Gerard loomed so closeby that an intoxicating scent radiating from him twirled enticingly under Frank's nose.

"You can't even imagine." Frank was slightly breathless, compelled to lean closer, but he abstained. He knew Gerard was easily pushed too far.

"No. I don't think I can." Gerard whispered and searched Frank's eyes with an odd intensity. Frank wasn't at all threatened by it; he stared back in earnest. He wanted Gerard to see him, suddenly.

"I don't know what's happened in your life, Gerard, I'm not gonna ask either, but you don't need to be so guarded near me." Frank laid down a token of reassurance that Gerard would either slide into his pocket or shove back against Frank's chest.

Gerard's soft chuckle danced in the air, a swirl of his honey lavender scent filling Frank's head. "You'd run in the opposite direction if you were given any other form of insight on me."

"I'm not easily frightened." Frank arched one eyebrow calling Gerard's bluff.

"We'll see about that." Gerard finally leaned back in his seat, an evanescent look of something stony flashing over his face before he corrected it. Only then did Frank realize just how closely they'd moved towards each other. His upper body was practically pressed against the table.

Frank cleared his throat and pulled away. He crossed his arms over his chest the same way Gerard did, knees slightly apart, his gaze measuring. He wondered what secrets were hidden that Gerard swore had the capability of sending Frank sprinting away. Either that was the truth, or Frank was being unfairly underestimated, which he never took kindly to.

"Now it's your turn to answer my questions." Frank pressed the matter he hoped Gerard hadn't forgotten about.

Gerard frowned. He flicked a lock of dark hair away from his face, tapping his foot against the floor. "Should I be afraid?"

"Only slightly." Frank's lips curved into a subtle smile that only grew when Gerard couldn't help returning it.

"I don't think that's possible right now."

"Why?" Frank immediately tensed, but why he questioned Gerard's statement, the trill of the class bell filled the room, startling him. His wide eyes caught Gerard feigning a cough to keep his grin hidden from view.

"Fuck." Frank muttered. "Don't think this means you're off the hook."

"I know it means quite the opposite." Gerard's hand fell away from his face and his eyes followed Frank standing to collect his things, barely noticing his untouched bag of chips.

"I'm grilling you in English class right now." Frank warned, and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Fun." Gerard mumbled under his breath and managed to rise from his seat far more gracefully than Frank, not even needing to brace himself against the table to maintain perfect balance.

"I have no idea how it's already time to go." Frank glanced astounded at the wall clock across the cafeteria. While looking over, he caught the large eyes of his friends warily retreating while staring in his direction, deciding not to cross the room while Frank still stood beside Gerard. He tossed a smile their way so they were reassured and didn't hold onto the possibility that Frank was being ensnared in something sinister or unpleasant. Well, not entirely unpleasant. 

When Frank turned back around, he nearly choked on a gasp when he realized Gerard was directly behind him, a crooked smile fixed on his lips.

"Time goes by so quickly when you don't want it to, doesn't it?" Gerard's smile melted into one that was well rounded, almost warm, if Frank's eyes deceived him. God, did that mean he didn't want their time

together to end? Frank was suffering from whiplash trying to catch up to how differently Gerard was acting that day. If Frank read into that too deeply, he'd start questioning something else that wasn't appropriate to speculate before really getting to know Gerard first.

"I guess it does." Frank breathed. He cleared his throat in chagrin and felt a red hue tinting his cheeks.

Gerard took a step back, then one forward after a fleeting moment of consideration. "Let's walk to class together."

It wasn't an invitation, but the statement of something that was going to happen even if Frank protested. Gerard started off without glancing over his shoulder to see if Frank followed because he fully expected Frank to stumble along. Frank's initial reaction was to stalk off on his own, but against his instincts, he found himself catching up to Gerard's brisk pace, lightheaded from their conversation. Something shifted between them and Frank was determined to identify the reason behind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This college student is begging you not to give up on her yet! I have a lot of homework and stress over homework haha. Let me know your thoughts! I love hearing them

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the link for the playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/53O5ZOkKmGFUqr8X37xUCL?si=vGhEdq4PQq6jdqT48Q0NHg


End file.
